Chuck vs the Unknown Soldier
by vandevere
Summary: AU Alexander Coburn never became John Casey.  Also starring Colonel Keller and Ty Bennet
1. Chapter 1

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier**

_Honduras, 1989 _

_Tell me Lieutenant…Are you ready to die today?_

Sometimes things go wrong, horribly wrong…

It all started with Colonel James Keller; and it would end with him as well…

Lieutenant Alexander Coburn supposed he was ready to die; to shed the chrysalis of Alex Coburn and become the kind of man Keller said he could become; an NSA agent.

But his decision didn't come without a cost. Alexander Coburn would have to die, which meant-among other things-giving up his beloved Kathleen.

_I can do this_, Coburn told himself. _If it means I can protect my country from whatever threatens her, then whatever sacrifice I make will be worth it…_

For now, Lieutenant Coburn was waiting at a specifically designated spot. It was far enough from the fighting for whatever it was Colonel Keller needed him to do without unseemly interruptions from the enemy, but close enough that enemy action could be used to account for Coburn's disappearance, and subsequent…death.

Keller had left him there with orders to _stay_ there until he came back. Then the Colonel had disappeared into the dark night, no doubt with another mission to accomplish this night…

With nothing to do, feeling bored and edgy at the same time-a very unpleasant mix there-Coburn could only stand there, listening to the noises in the dark moonless night.

There were sounds that didn't belong; leaves rustling up ahead and to the left, and Coburn knew nothing had been planned near the spot where he was right now.

_Is it the enemy, doing something unexpected?_

_M16_ out and ready, his senses at their highest pitch, he followed the rustling noises, ears translating the rustling sound into cautious footsteps. And now, he could hear voices carrying softly over the night air…

"Now that we're all here," that was Colonel Keller's voice. "We might as well get down to business."

"Agreed," another man spoke.

Coburn had what his CO had called _Snipers' Eyes_; the God-given ability to see long distances, and since some of the men with Keller and this stranger were holding flashlights, it was now light enough for Coburn to make out some very important details…

The man speaking to Keller was Martin Santirez, one of the most highly wanted terrorists in the entire Latin American world; and Keller was glad-handing him like he was the Colonel's best friend.

The Colonel picked up this briefcase lying at his feet, held it out to Santirez.

"The Ring is grateful for your actions these last few months," he opened the briefcase, and Coburn's sharp eagle eyes picked out the fact that the briefcase was stuffed with stacks of crisp one hundred dollar bills.

Santirez smiled wide, teeth flashing in the fitful light from the flashlights.

"If the Ring is always _this_ grateful," he replied. "You may count on our continued assistance."

Coburn felt as if all the air had been punched right out of his lungs. Keller was giving money to a known terrorist. Keller was committing treason…

_I need to get back to my CO…_

Coburn slowly began to back away, heart hammering in his chest; and it was a twig snapping underfoot-the cracking sound unnaturally sharp in the still night air-that gave his position away.

"Someone's here," Santirez hissed as they all drew weapons.

_Oh…shit._

Bullets tore the air around Coburn, shredding the leaves around him, pocking the nearby rocks.

Coburn returned fire, was gratified to see two of the men go down under the hail of bullets. But, as he moved to flee, his legs folded under him as bullets shattered his right kneecap…

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he rolled over to retrieve his _M16_. He wasn't going to go down without a fight…

But a booted foot came down, kicking the assault rifle away; and it was Colonel Keller staring down at him impassively, handgun in his hand.

"I thought I told you to stay at Point," the older man rasped.

"I saw what you did Colonel!"

"Yes, you did…"

There was an audible click as Keller released to safety, and Coburn's breath caught.

"You could've been something," Keller finally said. "The best goddam sniper I've ever seen and you just had to do _this_…"

He shrugged slightly as he aimed the gun.

"A pity…" he murmured.

So, _was_ Lieutenant Alexander Coburn ready to die today?

Not really…

The sound of a single gunshot rent the air…

* * *

Dr. Cosmo Vance was the Senior Medic in charge of the Station; and he was bone-tired. There'd been an enemy surge last night, and he and his fellow surgeons had been up to their necks in blood, bullets and shrapnel. But now, in the wee hours of the morning, the sun just beginning to make its presence known, the last of the casualties had been dealt with, and Vance could look forward to some rest.

But, just as visions of slumber were beginning to dance in his head, the PA crackled into life…

_Incoming wounded arriving in five minutes…_

Oh…Surgeons didn't really need sleep anyway, did they?

There was only the one casualty, an American Marine, young and hanging on to life by the merest of threads.

The shattered kneecap would require delicate reconstructive surgery back in the States, but that would have to wait. The gunshot wound to the head was a far more serious matter, and Vance just couldn't figure out how the young man had managed to stay alive with such a grievous head wound.

His dog tags had identified him as Lieutenant Alexander Coburn, Blood Type AB Negative; and the emergency surgery to remove the bullet, and relieve the swelling that brain injuries always brought, took several hours.

The operation left the Lieutenant in a coma, and it left Vance with some unsettling questions.

The bullet had been an American bullet, fired from an American gun; and at too close quarters for it to be a Friendly Fire Incident.

He had been shot by another American; and deliberately, at that.

Vance had put all his findings in his report, hoping the MPs would investigate it and find the shooter, but the investigation got stalled somehow…

Coburn, of course, knew nothing about it. He remained in that coma, one he was now never expected to awaken from; which was why he was considered an ideal subject for _Project Neurostim…_

* * *

_Project Neurostim_ was a controversial medical study that had just entered the Human Trials Phase; one that was focused on the treatment of traumatic brain injury.

It involved the use of Human stem Cells, and mild doses of electricity; both to be applied to the damaged areas of the brain.

Of course, all of this was done without the knowledge or consent of the patient; or the patient's Next of Kin, who happened to be Kathleen McHugh…

Indeed, Kathleen was left in complete ignorance of her Beloved's fate until after the project had been deemed a failure.

_Then_, a Marine Counselor had been sent to inform her that Lieutenant Alexander Coburn had been critically wounded in Honduras.

The official diagnosis was _Persistent Vegetative State due to traumatic brain injury._

Kathleen had been doubly devastated by the news.

When she first saw him in the VA Hospital, she talked to him, and touched him. But there was no response to her voice or her hands as she stroked his strong jaw line.

He wasn't dead. But he wasn't _alive_ either…not really.

So he couldn't know about the beautiful thing he and Kathleen had created the last time they had been together.

_Oh…Alex…_she bent and took one of his motionless hands.

_I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby…_

Alex had been an only child, and both of his parents were dead, so-among all her other responsibilities-she took on the role of Alex's Legal Guardian; and she visited him at the Long-Term Coma Care facility as often as she could.

She talked to him, read to him from some of his favorite books, sang to him, and as her pregnancy progressed, she would take his hand, and place it upon her growing womb, so he could feel the baby kick.

Then, finally, the baby was born, a little girl who had inherited her Father's good looks and his beautiful blue eyes.

So Kathleen named her little girl Alexandra.

As soon as she could, she brought the little baby to visit her Father and laid the wriggling infant gently upon the comatose man's chest, placing his motionless hands upon the infant, hoping that _somewhere_ deep inside, there was an Alexander Coburn who could feel his daughter in his hands, and hear the little squeaks and mews she made.

There was no way to tell if anything registered with Coburn. He was breathing on his own now and his body-so magnificently strong and…beautiful-continued in living. There was a steady pulse, and his chest rose and fell regularly as he breathed.

But Alex wasn't _here_, and it didn't look like he would be coming back any time soon…

As it turned out, he remained in that coma until Nineteen Ninety-four, when he was kissed awake by a Fairy Princess…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier **

**Chapter 2 **

"So, Charles," Chuck looked up as the older man spoke. "Now that Ex-Agent Daniel Shaw has been taken care of, what do you plan to do with your life?"

"I think you know, Dad," he heard Bartowski Senior's sigh.

"It's not what I wanted for you," the older man said at last.

"I know Dad," Chuck nodded. "But it's what I want for myself."

"Are you sure, Son?"

"Absolutely."

Stephen Bartowski sighed again.

"Then, Son, if that's what you want, I'm behind you."

"Thanks, Dad."

Chuck stared at his father…

_Just a few months ago Stephen J. Bartowski had died in Chuck's arms, shot in the chest at point-blank range by Daniel Shaw, whose desire for vengeance in the matter of Eve Shaw's death had grown to encompass the entire world-or at least the USA,-and had led to his becoming a member of the Ring. So, in cold blood, he had shot Stephen, and left Chuck holding his dead father in his arms. He could have killed Chuck then. As lost as he was feeling right now, Chuck wouldn't have put up a fight. But Shaw had decided to behave in true comic-book villain fashion._

_He had wanted Chuck to __**suffer**__…_

_So Shaw, and his Ring goons had left, secure in the knowledge of their inevitable victory…_

"_Are they gone?"_

_Chuck almost dropped his father's body at the soft whisper._

"_Dad?" he gasped. "But you…you…"_

"_It's okay Charles," Stephen slowly sat up, rubbing his chest gingerly._

"_That really hurt…" he complained._

_Chuck helped him open his shirt, looked wide-eyed at what lay under that shirt._

"_Body armor," he exclaimed. "Did Bennet tell you to wear that?"_

"_No," Stephen shook his head. "Sarah didn't either…"_

"_So you did that on your own…" Chuck's eyes were full of pride. "That's my Dad…"_

"_No…" Stephen shrugged awkwardly. "It was someone else's idea…"_

_That was when he told his son about the madman who had tracked him down to his lair way back in __**Ninety-Eight**__…_

"_It wasn't just that he knew my name," Stephen explained. "Or that he knew your name and Ellie's too. Any spy would've known that much. But he knew the kind of tiny details about you and Ellie that no one would've bothered to put in any Agency Files, and he knew about the Intersect…"_

"_So basically he knew stuff even the best spies couldn't have known," Chuck asked._

"_Yes, and so when he told me that I was going to run afoul of an agent name of Daniel Shaw, and when he told me I should wear body armor if I ever met him, I was inclined to believe him."_

"_I'd like to find this guy," Chuck helped his father to his feet. "If only to thank him. He saved your life."_

"_I'd like to thank him too," there was sadness in Stephen's eyes. "But I don't think you'll find him. I never learned his name, and his wife turned up with a handful of cops, and a few men in white coats, and they took him away. But, he looked like he was at peace with himself; like he had accomplished what he had set out to do. He's probably hidden away in a hospital somewhere…"_

Now, sitting with his father at the local Burbank Subway, Chuck thought of that mysterious stranger who had gone out of his way to see to it that Stephen J. Bartowski wore body armor at the right time.

_Thank you…whoever you are…_

* * *

After lunch, Stephen Bartowski walked with his son back to the new CIA-approved _Buy More_…

Chuck had had his cover job restored to him, and was now officially a spy for the CIA. Stephen wasn't exactly pleased with that, but he could see that Chuck had done more than accept his fate as the Human Intersect. He had actively embraced it, and Stephen had to admit his son was very good at his secret job.

Thus, it had-most ironically-fallen to Stephen to talk to Ellie who wanted Chuck to give it all up. In fact she had been most adamant about it. But-in spite of his misgivings-Stephen could see that Chuck was meant to do what he was doing.

_Let him live the life he has chosen Ellie. It's not the kind of life everyone can handle. But it's the life Chuck has chosen, and we all need to respect that…_

So, feeling the same kind of misgivings Stephen did, Ellie had acquiesced…

_At least Chuck has Sarah…_

Stephen knew true love when he saw it. Chuck and Sarah were _The Couple_. Everyone could see it; even Jeff and Lester…

And, through thick and thin, Chuck had Morgan Grimes-his beloved BFF…

Speaking of Morgan…

There he was, wearing the suit of a Manager for the _Buy More_, doing his level best to handle the responsibilities of two jobs; his official one as Store Manager, and as a member of _Team Bartowski._

The young Store Manager had also proven to be lucky in love-after a few notorious false starts.

Her name was Lexi Coburn, and she was a pretty girl with bright blue eyes; and it was clear Morgan loved her.

Right now, Morgan was looking a little harried.

"I won't be able to attend the briefing," he apologized. "Lexi's Dad's gone missing again, so she needs me."

"How many times is it that he's gone missing this past year?" Chuck asked. "Three or four times?"

"This will be the fourth time," Morgan replied. "I don't know how he does it. Anyway, I've got to help Lexi look for him. Hopefully we'll find him on the shooting range. He always seems to go to places like that. I've already forwarded the report on the Gretas to the General; so it should be okay…"

"I'll fill you in later," Chuck reassured him. "Good luck in finding Lexi's Dad…"

Now, they were all in _Castle_, the joint CIA/NSA facility hiding under the _Buy More_ and _Orange, Orange_…

"Chuck!" Sarah Walker strode up to him, love clear in her eyes. "Beckman will be teleconferencing in a few minutes."

Ty Bennet didn't say anything. He was busy finishing up a last-minute report on the computer; and Stephen found him an interesting study.

The man was one of the leading tacticians in the NSA, and apparently also one of the better instructors within any of the secret services.

Well, he had found a pair of interesting students in the persons of Chuck Bartowski and Morgan Grimes.

"Where's Morgan?" he asked without looking up from his typing. "He's got that report on the Greta Program."

"He's helping Lexi," Chuck said. "Her Dad went missing again."

There was this sigh from Bennet, a sad-sounding one.

"I wouldn't worry," Chuck assured him. "Morgan forwarded the report to Beckman."

"It's not that," Bennet's shoulders moved in an uncertain shrug. "It's-"

That was when the large wall monitor came to life.

"Good afternoon Agents," the monitor was graced with General Diane Beckman's stern features. "I trust we are ready to discuss today's business?"

First on the agenda was Morgan's report on the Gretas; and his report-surprisingly concise-had detailed how such seemingly perfect _Buy More_ employees-which the Gretas indisputably were-would be a blazing beacon to any enemy agencies-such as the Ring or their successors.

So Beckman reluctantly agreed that the Gretas should be assigned elsewhere, and the regular employees, Jeff, Lester, Chip, and all the others, should be left to do their own, frightfully inefficient jobs.

After that, the individual roles of Team Bartowski were refined and clarified; and the newest Member, Stephen Bartowski, put in charge of all things technological.

Then, the General signed off, with stern warnings that Morgan Grimes was to be present for the next briefing-or else!-and eve3ryone looked at Chuck, who had been promoted to Team Leader.

He had a look on his face that Stephen recognized.

_He's planning something…_

"Okay, Charles," Stephen said. "It's just _Team Bartowski. _You can tell us what you're planning…"

"What I'm planning?" Chuck looked completely innocent. Way too innocent, in fact.

"Yes," Bennet stood. "You shouldn't try that _innocent_ look against hardened spies. Besides…we _know_ you."

Chuck sighed.

"Okay," he finally said. "I've been thinking guys. You know I found Dad-with your help, of course-but I was wondering if maybe it's time to find out what happened to Mom?"

Right then, Stephen felt as if the proverbial house had fallen on him.

"Chuck…" his voice cracked on that, and he had to stop and clear his throat.

"Don't you want to know where she went?" Chuck asked him. "Or if she's even still alive after all these years?"

"Don't you think I've been working on that all these years Chuck?" Stephen felt tears prick his eyes. "I've been looking for her since before I left you. I never even found a trace, and my resources were pretty damn big."

"I've got resources too," Chuck spoke with shining assurance. "And I won't give up until I find out what happened to her. Trust me Dad. I _will_ find her, and bring her home so we can all be a family again."

And Stephen could only shake his head in admiration, and _awe…_

Was there anything Charles Irving Bartowski could not do?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier**

**Chapter 3**

_Lexi's worried again…_

_Her_ voice spoke in Alexander Coburn's ears, and he shivered at the slightly scolding tone to her voice. Yes, he knew he was putting Lexi, his beloved daughter through a lot of worry.

"The _wrong people_ are out and about," he muttered, carefully making sure that no one overheard the quiet conversation.

_I know…Her_ sigh filled his brain. _But you won't find salvation out on the shooting range._

"It helps me think," Coburn protested.

In a way, it did. The crackling sound of gunfire soothed him, even as it reminded him of all he had lost. But _she_ was right. If he didn't exercise caution, the _wrong people_ would find him, and he would never get the chance to find the _right people._

"If they even exist…" he muttered softly.

He was sitting on a stone bench, and it was just beginning to drizzle a little, so soon the shooters would put their guns away and go home.

Coburn sighed, clutching his cane to his chest, wishing he was still the hale, whole, and _uncrippled_ man he had been before Honduras…

The _wrong people_were out there right now, searching for him; and if they found him, he would be lost forever…

When he had awakened from the coma back in _Ninety-Four_, he had awakened with a…gift; or maybe it was a curse. Coburn hadn't decided which one it was.

But sometimes he just _knew_ things.

All through the _Nineties_, he had been plagued by nightmares of the Two Towers going down. He had put that down to some sort of Traumatic Shock thing, had made himself believe that was what it was.

Then he woke up on the morning on _9-11, _in the year 2001, and watched-along with the rest of the world-as his nightmares became recorded history…

There had been other times too; like the time he had felt compelled to follow this stranger all the way to his house.

Coburn couldn't explain it. But he just _knew_ he had to speak to this man.

_If you ever meet up with a man called Daniel Shaw, remember to wear body armor. He'll try to kill you…_

He'd said other things too, the knowledge filling his brain, and the words just slipping from his mouth, things about the stranger's children and about something called…_Intersect._

Then, Kathleen had turned up, with the cops who had helped her track Coburn down, and a few of the men from the VA Hospital.

Kathleen had been _very_ upset with him that day, and he knew it was due to her fear of what might have happened to him. After all, Coburn wasn't exactly the tower of strength he used to be, was he?

He could barely walk, he had seizures, his coordination was all shot to hell, and he…well…he _saw_ things…

He didn't remember getting injured in Honduras. One of the VA docs told him he'd been shot in the head, at very close quarters. In fact, as soon as the docs had established that he was capable of understanding speech, and responding in kind, he had been interviewed by two MPs. He hadn't been able to help their investigation; but he wasn't a dummy. He knew what all their questions more than strongly implied.

He hadn't been shot by the enemy. He had been shot by a fellow American.

And, all through his stay at the VA hospital, after he had awakened from the coma, all the docs kept telling him how truly miraculous his recovery was.

_Yeah…right…Miracle my ass…_

"Dad, there you are!"

Lexi Coburn's voice brought Alex back to the present; and there his daughter was, accompanied by her boyfriend, Morgan Grimes.

"Why do you keep on leaving the Home like that?" Lexi scolded him. "You're giving the staff fits, and you make me worry too. What if you had a seizure out here, with no one to help you?"

Alex looked at his daughter, his beloved _Fairy Princess_.

"It's just the shooting range," he finally said. "They all know me here."

That was true. The shooting range employees all knew him, and they all seemed to try to keep an eye out for him. But Lexi wasn't mollified at all.

"It's _raining, _Dad," she said. "And you know what Dr. Voss said about you and colds."

"Speaking of which," Morgan Grimes interjected. "It's time to get you out of that rain, sir, and back to your place."

Maybe Grimes was more than just a boyfriend by now. Even Coburn had to admit Lexi and Morgan made a great couple.

Coburn sighed.

He had _wanted_ to be a good Father to his daughter, as much as he had wanted to be a good husband to his wife. But his injuries had made all of that impossible. It was all he could do just to be alive…

But Morgan was a good kid; the kind of guy Alex would have wanted for his daughter.

So, he allowed Grimes to help him to his feet, and set the cane in his hand, and they all headed for Lexi's beat-up little car.

_Time to go back to the Home…_

* * *

Morgan Grimes liked Lexi's Dad. He really did, and that was what made this all so hard.

Alexander Coburn was a very tall man who stood at six foot four-plus. Before his injury in Honduras, he had also been a _big_ man with a burly build and wide shoulders. Morgan had seen the photos of the young Lieutenant Alexander Coburn, and what he had been before the injury.

A crippling brain injury had left Coburn fragile, prone to seizures and hallucinations, with medical needs that Lexi simply couldn't handle alone. She'd said it had been easier when her Mom was still alive; but Kathleen had died in 2003, victim of a hit-and-run accident.

Trying to go to college and maintain a job at the same time had left Lexi with a terrible decision to make.

She had hated to do this, but she'd had to put Alex in a Home, where he would receive the around-the-clock care he really needed.

Right now, Coburn was looking off to his left, head cocked, as if listening to something.

_What's he hearing?_ Morgan wondered

The man was standing there, leaning on the cane for support. With his height, and being so thin, there was almost this…_scarecrowish_ look to him.

"Let's get you into the car, sir."

Morgan got Coburn settled in the front seat of Lexi's car after he had adjusted the front seat. Coburn needed all the legroom he could get, and Morgan really didn't mind sitting in one of the rear seats.

Finally, they got Coburn to the VA Home, and it was a pretty decent place all told; not like those infamous Homes that seemed to make the news all the time.

The place was comfortable-looking, and Coburn had a room to himself. The room was full of family photos, on every available surface, and there was an antique cassette deck player, along with a pretty decent collection of tapes-mostly _Yes_ and _Pink Floyd_…

Fortunately Coburn hadn't gotten wet from the rain-_or we would never have heard the end of it from the VA staff-_so no change of clothing was required, and Lexi could leave her father there, safe in the knowledge that it looked like he might not catch a cold this time.

He'd caught a cold last year though, and it had almost killed him…

"Don't wander off like that anymore, Dad," Lexi hugged her father. "It's too dangerous."

Morgan watched as Alex awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"I'll be good," the older man had said; with an appropriately contrite expression. But Morgan just had to wonder.

_Just __**how**__ contrite are you?_

* * *

Lexi and Morgan had made their farewells, and now Alexander Coburn was safely tucked into his warm bed. He lay there, listening to the sounds of the night, a pillow clutched to his chest. He closed his eyes, listening for _her_…

_We'll have to try something different._

Coburn sighed in relief. _She_ was here…

"The _wrong people_ are here," he whispered. "I saw one of _them_ in the hall today."

_We'll try escaping in a few days, Alex. But we'll need to try another place. The __**right people**__ aren't at the shooting range._

Coburn stared up at the ceiling. Where were the _right people_ anyway?

A vision filled his mind…

_It's a store, selling all sorts of electronic stuff, DVDs, and Kitchen Appliances; and there's a man sitting at a desk with the word __**Nerd herder**__ on it. The man is young, with dark hair and chocolate brown eyes, and Coburn just __**knows**__ the guy has a computer in his brain._

_He's also one of __**them**_**…**

_He's one of the__** Right People**__…_

So, Coburn guessed it was decided.

_Next time we escape, we go to the local Burbank __**Buy More**_…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier**

**Chapter 4**

_Moscow, Russia_

Colonel James Keller had had one hell of a close call. Only his innate dislike and distrust of Daniel Shaw had kept him safe from the debacle caused by the Ring's newly acquired Golden Boy.

_Should've shot the nutter first time I laid eyes on him…_

Shaw's obsession with avenging the death of his wife-Eve Shaw-had led him to make idiotic mistakes; and that had led to the almost complete dismantling of the Ring.

_But I'm still alive and free, and as long as I am able, I will advance the Ring's agenda to the best of my abilities…_

He was hampered in this by one very important factor. He had no resources; no weapons, or armies. But he _had_ managed to save the money from confiscation; so he could buy what he needed.

But that meant dealing with yet another nutter…

Alexei Volkoff had built an empire on weapon smuggling, and several other less savory but highly lucrative services in the Black Market world. He was richer than Midas and Croesus combined; and he had a reputation for being one of the most dangerous loonies in the world.

But, if Keller wanted to finish the Ring's work, he needed Volkoff, and the man's empire.

Well…Keller had done all his research on the man, learned his strengths and weaknesses-stupid not to learn everything you could-and had made his plans accordingly.

One way or the other, he was going to get everything he needed to revive the Ring, and attain all the Ring's goals…

* * *

Agent Frost sighed wearily as she stood next to her volatile-_boss? friend? enemy?-_and she still couldn't figure out what it was she felt for him; even after almost twenty years…

_I was supposed to bring him down…_

She had missed her _real_ family all of those twenty years-her quirky and brilliant husband, and her two children.

_This was supposed to be my final mission; the last one I ever did for the CIA…_

Well…Things got complicated…

Alexei had fallen in love with her; would see her dead before he allowed her to leave.

Frost shook herself. Now was not the time to dwell on the lost opportunities in the past. Volkoff had business to discuss with a man called Colonel James Keller…

"Be careful, Alexei," Frost said to the Russian. "Research indicates he was a member of the Ring until the Americans took the Ring down. We can't consider him a trustworthy ally."

"We shall consider him a viper fanged," Volkoff pronounced regally, blue eyes dancing merrily.

"Besides," he added airily. "Aren't we all vipers in this business?"

"True," Frost nodded ruefully. "Just…be careful Alexei. I don't trust the man…"

"All my security precautions are in place, my dear…"

She sighed again.

Of course Alexei's security precautions were in place. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that the person they were getting ready to do business with had been a member of the Ring.

Volkoff had done business with them before, on a semi-regular basis; and the Ring's motivations had always unnerved Frost.

Their ultimate aim seemed to be a takeover of the United States Government, along with a possible voiding of the Constitution…

Through the grapevine she had heard that an Agent name of Carmichael had taken down the Ring.

That wasn't a name she knew, but whoever Carmichael was, he-or she-had to be pretty good to pull that off.

But they had managed to miss one; Colonel James Keller; and the Ring was a lot like a Hydra; you had to chop off _all_ of the heads…

They all entered one of Volkoff's warehouses, and there Keller was, cheerfully submitting to the complete and _invasive_ procedure, as was normal for meetings with Volkoff.

The man was alone, and completely unarmed. But he didn't look at all put out; even after the security scan he had just gone through. But there was _something_ in his eyes…

_Could he possibly have something up his sleeve we don't know about?_

_No,_ Frost decided. If nothing else, the security precautions Volkoff insisted upon were rigorous. It wasn't likely that they missed anything. Still, that slight smirk in Keller's eyes raised Frost's hackles, and she was rarely-if ever-wrong about things like that.

"Good afternoon, sir," Volkoff strode up now that the security scan was done. "Please forgive the intrusiveness of the procedure. I am…not partial to unpleasant surprises."

Keller guffawed.

"Neither am I, my friend," he stepped forward, hand extended in greeting. "Colonel James Keller, at your service."

"Such an _American_ bonhomie!" Volkoff laughed in delight. "I am Alexei Volkoff!"

He greeted Keller in his typically Russian way, with a vigorous hug which seemed to startle Keller just a little. But the American recovered quickly and slapped Volkoff's back in a ruggedly friendly fashion.

Then, it was time for the business to begin…

"Now," Volkoff rubbed his hands briskly. "How can I be of assistance to the sole remaining Ring Elder?"

Keller grinned.

"I can rebuild the Ring."

"Make it stronger and faster?" Volkoff intoned

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Now the Russian was disappointed, and Frost had to bite back a chuckle of delight. Alexei had a rather…odd…sense of humor.

"Anyway, you wish to revive the Ring," Volkoff said

"Yes," Keller nodded. "I'll need a base of operations, weapons…you know… the usual…"

"That was a real tragedy, what happened with the Ring," Volkoff mused. "To come so close to realize your dreams, only to lose it all at the very last instant. Especially seeing as the Government's take-down of the Ring was so very complete."

"Yeah…well no one fingered me, so I'm still in the clear," Keller asserted. "But that's 'cause I know how to clean up after myself, and I've never minded getting my hands a little dirty for the cause."

"Ah…" Volkoff nodded. "You know the truism then; that _death is the solution to all problems_."

That was when the smile finally reached Keller's eyes, and Frost felt alarm prickle along her arms and legs.

"Thank you, Mr. Volkoff," Keller said. "I was really hoping you would say that. I've got a heavy task ahead of me; a task of _Olympian_ proportions…"

Then, the Colonel just threw himself forward; and that was when the walls behind him exploded inward, and armored men swooped in, machine guns blazing…

Frost was unhurt, a guard's body lying on top of her. All of the other guards were down too, and Volkoff too. She could see him from where she lay, and she could hear his ragged breathing, the bubbling quality to it.

_Punctured lung…_

There wasn't a damned thing she could do, lying there with the body of a guard on top of her. So she lay there, feigning death, watching as Keller's plan began to unfold itself…

She heard Keller's footsteps as he walked around Volkoff's body, and she saw the handgun in his hand.

"Y'know, Alexei," the American said as he looked down upon the dying Russian. "You're right. Death really _is_ the solution to all problems."

Frost heard the gunshot ring out.

_Alexei's dead…_

Her twenty-year mission was finally over; even if not in any way she had imagined it would end.

_I have to get out of here!_

But even if she got out of this warehouse alive, where could she go?

_Marco! _

He was the one who tended to Volkoff's luxury plane. If she could get to him, they'd be able to get way…

She heard Keller give the orders to burn the warehouse and destroy the bodies.

In all the confusion of flame and bodies, Frost found it relatively easy to slip out unnoticed.

One hot-wired car later, she was speeding down Moscow's streets, driving with one hand, dialing on the cell-phone with the other.

"Hello?" judging from the background noises it sounded like Marco was enjoying a little Family Time.

"It's me, Frost. We have an emergency."

"What happened?"

"Alexei Volkoff is dead, Marco."

"Сынок - - a - сука!"

_Son of a bitch!_

"You're with your family, Marco?"

"Uh…" Marco was beginning to panic a little, now that his world was coming crashing down around his ears.

"Get your wife and kids, Marco" _Might as well save what people I can_. "take everyone to the plane and fuel it up. I'll meet you there."

"Yes, Ma'am…"

_Good old Marco. Not the swiftest deer in the forest. But he follows orders…_

When she got there, the plane was fuelled and ready to go. Marco's wife and two boys were in the passenger seats, looking scared out of their wits; and Marco was walking up to her, face white…

"The Boss is dead?"

"Yes, Marco," _why do I feel like crying?_ "Plane ready to go?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he settled himself into the pilot's seat. "Where are we going?"

"America" Frost spoke crisply. "For now, it's the best place for your wife and kids to be safe…"

Marco nodded, and then he reached out and gently touched Frost's cheek.

"I used to doubt you," he said. "I thought you were sent to hurt Mr. Volkoff."

Frost felt his rough finger gently wipe the tears away.

"I'm sorry for doubting you, Ms. Frost" he added

Frost nodded shakily as she sat down in the copilot's seat.

"Let's get out of here…"

After the plane was aloft, and heading for America, Marco glanced at her.

"Will we ever be able to avenge Mr. Volkoff's death?"

"I think so," Frost nodded. "But I need to tell you a few things about me first."

"That you're a rogue CIA Agent?" Marco scoffed, smiling ruefully. "We all knew that. That was why I doubted you so much at first."

"I'm going to have to get in touch with the people I left twenty years ago."

"Won't they arrest you and me too?"

"No, Marco," she laid a gentle hand on the pilot's arm. "I'll tell them you're just my bodyguard, and I'll do my best to keep you and your family together."

Now it was time for Frost to become _Agent Frost…_

Fortunately, the Comm unit on the plane was one of the best. Alexei Volkoff never stinted on the _important_ things. It took several minutes of patient repeating of serial numbers and code phrases; but soon she was put in contact with a stunned-looking General Diane Beckman.

"_You're_ Special Agent Frost?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Frost spoke dryly. "Alexei Volkoff is dead. He was killed by a member of the Ring; a Colonel James Keller, who is now in possession of all of Volkoff's assets."

Beckman's eyes widened even further at that announcement. The screen went blank for a few minutes. Then Beckman came back online.

"Can you make it to Burbank?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Frost nodded. "I assume you have a team there?"

"Yes," there was an unreadable expression in Beckman's eyes. "And the Burbank team will be more than happy to meet you there."

"We'll be there in nine hours, give or take," Marco didn't even look up from the controls as he spoke.

"We'll be waiting for you," the General said. "Beckman out."

Frost laid her head back against the seat's headrest.

She didn't love Alexei. Certainly not the way she loved her beloved Stephen. But there _was_ grief in her at Alexei's passing.

_How can you spend twenty years with a man and not feel something for him?_

_My god…twenty years…My children are all grown up now, and I missed all of it…_

_Ellie and Chuck, how will they ever forgive me?_

* * *

Colonel James Keller was now in total control of the biggest Black Market Empire in the world. There were weapons of all kinds, even nuclear devices, and biological weapons that made Hydrogen Bombs seem passé…

But there were other concerns too; many of them purely legitimate business enterprises.

_Gotta hand it to the guy; Volkoff sure knew how to diversify…_

And, there was the Research arm, and its never-ending quest to identify and acquire new assets for Volkoff.

_You're shittin' me…PSI?_

From the Sixties and up, most governments had invested at least some research in paranormal research. The Soviet Union had headed the field, with America coming in at a close second. But while the research was successful enough to prove that the PSI believers may have had a point, the official research hadn't really gotten much further than that.

But, as with all important advances, it was the _accidental_ successes that were really important.

One such case dealing with unintended consequences was _Project Neurostim_…

Neurostim's originally stated purpose had been to find ways to treat traumatic brain injuries. The subjects had all been young soldiers with traumatic brain injuries, and the research was done in the late _Eighties_…

On the one hand, Project Neurostim was a success and a rather big one at that; even though it took many of the subjects a few years to awaken from their vegetative states. But, all told, there were around one hundred young men and women who were successfully treated for traumatic brain injuries.

But, on the other hand, Neurostim was a failure, as all but one of the subjects were now dead; mostly by suicide, either by their own hand, or-as the euphuism went-_Police-assisted suicide…_

All of the subjects had reported altered states of mind, and mental capabilities that the PSI researchers only dreamed of. Telepathy, Remote-viewing, and prescience…

And so they all had taken their own lives, one way or the other; except for this one lone survivor…

_Sonofabitch…Alexander Coburn…_

The man had been diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia, and was living a semi-invalid existence in a VA Home in Burbank California.

But he had a way of knowing things that was absolutely uncanny. He had even successfully predicted the Attack on the Two Towers, way back in the mid-Nineties.

Volkoff had been trying to get him for years. First it was Alex's wife, Kathleen, who stood in the way. But there had been a suspicious-looking hit-and-run accident back in '03.

_Accident my ass…_

Keller snorted as he continued to read Volkoff's file on Alexander Coburn.

After Kathleen's death, it had been Alexandra Coburn who stood in the way, and she had moved quickly to protect her father. She got his Power of Attorney, and got him placed into a very nice, very comfortable Home operated by the VA.

Volkoff did have men there, but it was extremely unlikely they'd ever be able to get to him there.

_Too bad, really…_

_We coulda used someone who could see the future when we went to all that trouble of trying to get the Golden Boy. If Alex had been part of our team, he would've told us the kind of trouble Shaw would end up giving us, and we woulda just iced the guy._

Keller remembered Coburn from Honduras; an idealistic white knight, a six-foot-four Goody Two-shoes in Size Thirteen boots. _Then_, he'd only been good for cannon fodder.

_Maybe he's actually worth something now…_

Keller tapped Coburn's photo thoughtfully.

_Better find out where they got him stashed…_

_Note; All foreign languages courtesy of Bablefish_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier**

**Chapter 5**

_Burbank, Castle_

Chuck Bartowski and the rest of the team had assembled down in the Castle's main Center upon General Diane Beckman's orders; in order to meet with someone she called _Agent Frost._

Chuck was more than a little perplexed at the total paucity of information on this particular subject. On the other hand, his father, Stephen J. Bartowski had certainly reacted to the name; which meant it was someone he knew, but the name was one he hadn't put in the Intersect, and _that_ was…interesting.

Agent Ty Bennet had gone to the nearest Burbank Airport, to fetch Agent Frost, and his/her companion, and they were due to arrive any minute. Sarah Walker was sitting quietly at the table, doing what she always did when she was bored, and now her knives were all neatly arrayed on the table, sparkling clean and freshly honed.

Morgan Grimes was also keeping occupied, although he would probably have skipped this particular problem if he could. Lexi Coburn's father had gone missing again, and Morgan was on his cell-phone now, trying his best to reassure his girlfriend.

"Sweetie," he was saying. "I'm right in the middle of a Staff Meeting right now, so I can't leave yet. I'll call you as soon as I'm free, though, and you know all I want to do is help you. Yes…I'll see you as soon as I can. Love you!"

He hung up, looking just a little miffed.

"I swear I'm going to crazy-glue Alex to a chair," he muttered.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Chuck asked.

"Just keep your eyes open for a really tall guy with a cane," Morgan _huffed_ a little. "Alex is a really great guy. But he keeps on taking off, and Lexi's beginning to freak out a little."

"Did you tell her to check the shooting range?" Sarah asked. "That's where you said he went the last three times."

"That's where she checked first, and he's not there," Morgan rubbed his eyes tiredly. "It's like Alex is looking for something, and he just won't stop until he finds it"

"Go and help her Morgan," Stephen Bartowski spoke up. "We'll all cover for you. There's nothing more important than the one you love."

Chuck certainly agreed with his Dad, but before he could open his mouth and tell Morgan to go, Ty Bennet arrived, with a Russian Man, and…Agent Frost.

And Chuck's world came crashing to a halt…

"_Mom..?"_

He saw Stephen Bartowski come to his feet, a kind of crooked smile twitching the corners of his mouth.

"Mary…"

Agent Frost-Mary Bartowski-just walked right into Stephen's arms, and his arms went around her, and-out of the blue-she started to cry.

"He's dead, Stephen…"

Chuck heard her voice muffled against Stephen's chest; and he saw Stephen's eyes close in grief, and he saw the older man's lips move in soundless…prayer?

"_Who's_ dead?" Sarah asked as she stood sliding her knives back into their sheathes.

"Alexei Volkoff," it was Stephen who spoke softly, caressing his wife's back as she cried.

"Dad..?"

"It's all right, Charles," Stephen patted Mary's back, and she pulled herself together.

"Yes, "she nodded. "Alexei Volkoff is dead. He was killed by a man calling himself Colonel James Keller."

"_Keller?"_

Ty Bennet went very still at that, and Chuck recalled that there was a story going around that Keller-a known member of the Ring-had once tried to recruit Bennet. The story went that Bennet's detest for Keller-over something he had done years ago-was what had made him resist the Colonel's attempt; and Chuck could only wonder…

_What had Keller done that made Bennet hate him so?_

"So there's a Ring agent we seem to have missed…" the NSA agent spoke reflectively. "We need to correct that."

"Let me get this straight," Chuck said. "You want to go after the man who killed the most dangerous smuggler on Earth?"

"The man's a pig," Bennet stated. "And a destroyer of good people…"

"Anyone in particular you're thinking of?"

"A kid I knew ages back."

And that was all Bennet would say on the subject. But it was enough for Chuck.

"He may very well be a swine of the purest ray serene," Mary Bartowski finally spoke up. "But I think we may do well to reflect upon the fact that Keller is now in possession of Alexei Volkoff's empire; and I shudder to think of what he might be able to achieve given such vast resources."

Chuck could only nod in agreement. The Ring, with Daniel Shaw in charge, had come perilously close to succeeding in all of their aims. Only one thing had saved Team Bartowski; and that was Daniel Shaw's insanity.

Chuck shuddered as he realized that it was only the watch on his wrist-made with loving care by his father-that had kept him from suffering the same fate.

_Well…that and the fact that my brain was a better match for the Intersect…_

Well…by society's definitions, Keller was probably insane too; but in an entirely different-and far more _dangerous_-way.

The Intersect had tons of files on all the known Ring Members, Keller no less than the rest.

Although he craved power as much as your average megalomaniac, he had an almost complete lack of empathy. He was also completely unhindered by love for anyone else.

Chuck sighed.

At least Daniel Shaw had been capable of love. In fact, it had been that, his love for his dead wife-Eve, a Ring Agent killed by Sarah Walker on her Red Test-that had led to Shaw's fall to the dark side.

Keller had no such weaknesses.

* * *

The meeting broke up in indecision.

_Not a good sign,_ Stephen Bartowski thought as everyone went their way. Morgan was already on the phone with Lexi as he dashed out, ready to help her find her AWOL father.

_Maybe Crazy Glue isn't such a bad idea after all…_

Finally he was alone in the Castle; with Mary, his wife, and mother of their children.

_And witness to the death of a very dear friend. I'm sorry Hartley…so sorry…_

"Stephen?"

Mary's hand lay soft and gently on his shoulder. He took her hand in his and pulled her close.

"Please tell me it was quick and painless at least."

Mart shuddered in his arms.

"It was," she said at last. "I don't think he knew what hit him."

They both stood there, finding comfort in each other's arms. But still, there was that promise he had made so long ago…

"What am I going to tell his mother..?"

_Hartley Winterbottom…scientist…dear friend…and first victim of the Intersect._

* * *

Chuck Bartowski settled himself at the Nerd herder Desk, finding himself in need of things that looked and felt familiar, after all the sudden changes in his life today.

_Ellie's going to be in shock when she finds out…_

For the life of him, he couldn't figure out just what he was going to say to Ellie to explain their long-missing Mother's sudden reappearance in their lives.

_Maybe I should just take the Soap Opera route and say she was in a coma somewhere in a nameless hospital for however many years…_

_How did all of us-except for Ellie-wind up in the spy business? Is it genetics?_

It was the sound of a man delicately clearing his throat that brought Chuck back to the present, and he looked up…

The man was tall, very tall, leaning on a cane for support. The thin-ness of his frame didn't hide the fact that his shoulders were wide, any more than it hid the exceptionally strong jawline, and those very blue eyes…

_Of all the places for him to come to…_

Chuck had never met Lexi Coburn's father, but he knew it was Alexander Coburn. The Flash exploding behind his eyes told him so; along with a whole spate of data concerning his career in the Marines, cut short by a crippling brain injury in Honduras back in '89; and also about a highly secret project, called _Neurostim,_ that may have been responsible for bringing Coburn out of a many-years-long coma.

Chuck sat up straighter, hands itching for his cell-phone so he could call Morgan…

"Hi, I'm Chuck Bartowski," he put a bright note in his voice. "Can I help you?"

The man didn't say anything, just stood there with his head slightly tilted, staring at Chuck as if he were a puzzle that needed to be solved; and that was rather…unsettling.

Was it possible this man was…psychotic and dangerous?

There were plenty of people like that out in the world today, and Chuck didn't need to look too far afield to know that particular truth. There were, after all, Jeff and Lester, and seeing how they operated, it was a complete wonder they hadn't been arrested yet.

But this man in front of him-Alexander Coburn-the way he was staring at Chuck, like he had never seen a human being before, that was just plain creepy.

"You're the one…" the man spoke suddenly. "You're the Right People…"

_The Right…People..?_

"Um…are you okay?"

Come to think of it, the man's eyes were fluttering just a little, and he began to totter…

_Seizure!_

Chuck was over the desk-Flashing on how to deal with Grand Mal Seizures-in a second; just in time to catch the man as his legs gave out on him, the cane clattering loudly on the floor. He saw one of the Green shirts standing nearby, mouth agape.

"Skip! Get Big Mike"

Chuck heard Skip run off, returned his attention of Coburn's body as it spasmed under his hands.

"What's up Bartowski? Skip came running in a panic, said there was a guy dying in the Buy More and you know we can't have that."

"It's a Grand Mal Epileptic fit, that's all."

"I can see that, Bartowski. I ain't blind, you know. Looks like it's easing up now. What do you want me to do?"

"Find Ty Bennet and bring him here. I think he and I can deal with this."

"All right," Big Mike gave the unconscious man a dubious look. "He's not gonna give you any trouble?"

Chuck almost laughed.

_I know Kung Fu…Medicine, all sorts of languages, and a million other things…_

"No, Big Mike, he won't give me any trouble…"

"Okay…"

Big Mike went off to get Ty Bennet, and Chuck dug out his cell…

Morgan didn't pick up, so Chuck left the message on his voicemail.

"Hey Morgan, I've found Lexi's Dad, and we're going to take him down to the Castle, so he doesn't manage to creep off again. I'll call you again in a few…"

Chuck put the phone back in his pocket. Ty Bennet was approaching.

"Big Mike said you needed me," the man rumbled. "You Flash on anything?"

"On him," Chuck pointed at the unconscious man, and Bennet looked down at him.

It was always very alarming to see the blood leave a dark-skinned person's face, to see them go gray to the lips like that; and it was doubly so when that person was Ty Bennet.

Bennet quickly dropped to his knees, and there was deep sadness in his eyes as he laid a surprisingly gentle hand on Coburn's forehead.

"You know him?"

Bennet nodded at Chuck's question.

"I was one of his trainers in the Marines," the man said. "He was just a kid. But he was a _talented_ kid, and one of the best snipers I'd ever seen, in or out of the field. I was the one who vetted him, the one who told the NSA that he would make a great NSA agent, and the one who sent him right into James Keller's clutches…"

""Keller?"

"Yes, _Killer Keller _as we all used to call him. He was NSA too. But what we didn't know at the time was that he had always belonged to the Ring. I don't know why things went down the way they did. They were supposed to fake Alex's death, so he could go on to become an NSA Agent. But Alex must have stumbled upon something…"

"How do you know that?"

"Alex had been shot in the head at close quarters, by an _American _gun, and I'm as sure as the next sunrise that it was Keller who shot him."

"Alex was that kid you mentioned at the meeting wasn't he?"

Bennet sighed and bowed his head.

"He is," he finally said. "And Keller destroyed him, took everything from him."

Chuck patted his shoulder.

"Let's get him out of here, and into one of Castle's beds. He needs some sleep after a seizure like that. Then we can find a way to get him back to Lexi and they can take him back to his Home…"

"Right," Bennet nodded as he stood and began to lift Coburn's body over his shoulder.

"It occurs to me that Morgan Grimes may be right in one thing," the man said as he stood.

"And that one thing is?" Chuck got to his feet too.

"We may very well need Crazy Glue…"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier**

**Chapter 6**

Lexi Coburn was at her wits end right now. Her father hadn't been found at any of his favorite haunts, and she was beginning to think something bad might have happened to him.

Fortunately, Morgan Grimes was there with her. He must have seen something in her eyes because he had taken her to his place, the apartment he shared with the enigmatic Ty Bennet. Fortunately, Bennet was working the late shift at the _Buy More_ today, so he wasn't likely to walk through the door any time soon.

Dr. Morgan had prescribed hot tea and perfectly chaste cuddles for her, and so there she was, snuggled in his arms, the scent of lemon tea spicing the air.

"Dad was in a coma when I was born," she suddenly said. "He didn't even wake up until I was four."

"It must have been something…special when he woke up," Morgan was gently rubbing her back as she spoke.

"Yes, it was," Lexi smiled. "I was there when it happened. I was the first person he ever saw…"

"Oh…" Morgan sat up. "You have to tell me now."

"All right…"

So Lexi thought back to that day, the Halloween of '94, when her father had been kissed awake by a fairy princess…

_Halloween, 1994_

_It's Halloween, and Alexandra Coburn has been having trouble deciding what she wants to be for Halloween. She wants to be a princess, so she can wear a gown and a crown. But she also wants to be a fairy, so she can have the fairy wings. As usual, it's Mom who comes to the rescue…_

"_Why not be a Fairy Princess?" she says, and it's that easy._

_So now, on the Afternoon of Halloween, she's all dressed up and ready to go…_

_She's dressed early because her Mommy has an appointment with the Doctors and nurses who are taking care of her father-Alexander Coburn-before they go out Trick-or-treating._

_Lexi understands, in a general sort of way, what's wrong with her Daddy. Mommy told her he got hurt really badly, and that he's forgotten how to wake up. In Lexi's mind-influenced by her favorite Fairy Tales-that makes her Daddy Sleeping Beauty; and she has often wondered if there's a Princess Charming out there in the world._

_Now they're all there at the place, and Lexi-who knows how to read, looks at the lettering on the building. _

_**Burbank VA Long-term Coma Care Facility**_

_The halls are, as usual, echoingly silent. All the other patients there are asleep just like Daddy. So Lexi skips along in her pink frilly costume, earning smiles from doctors and nurses as they wend their way to Daddy's room; and there he is…_

_There's a pillow under his head, and warm blankets drawn up to his chest. Mommy bends down to kiss his cheek._

"_It's me, Alex," she says. "Lexi's here too."_

"_Hi Daddy," Alex pipes up, but she doesn't see any response to her voice or Mommy's voice._

_Mommy sighs, and then gently caresses Daddy's shoulder._

"_Don't pester daddy or try to wake him up, baby," she tells Lexi before she steps out into the hall to talk to the doctors and nurses; leaving Lexi alone with her sleeping father…_

_She watches him breathe, his chest slowly rising and falling. The window lets in the late afternoon sunlight, bathing the sleeping man in an aura of golden light, the sunlight warming his face with its gentle radiance._

_That's when Lexi suddenly realizes the truth…_

_**I'm a Princess and a Fairy. I'm Princess Charming!**_

_The realization almost makes her gasp with wonder. But she knows now what she has to do…_

_Hardly daring to breathe she inches closer to the bed, until she's standing right by her Daddy's bedside and looking down at his face._

_There's a really faint scar on his right cheek; something from way back when Daddy was a little boy, and now Lexi knows exactly what to do…_

_She's just barely tall enough to do it, although she has to climb onto the bed just a little._

_**Now…**_

_Lexi leans over very carefully, and kisses her father's right cheek, right on that faint little scar. Then she slides off the bed, and looks around to check if anyone caught her. _

_No one caught her, so she looks at Daddy to see if her kiss on his cheek made any difference. But his eyes are still closed, and he's not even twitching…_

_She bites her lip, trying to stifle the tears away. Of course it wasn't going to work. Sleeping beauty was a __**Fairy Tale**__…_

_The deep rumbling sigh interrupts her train of thought._

_**What's that?**_

_And there that rumbling sigh is again; and it's coming from…__**Daddy?**_

_Lexi stands stock-still, frozen in place as she looks at daddy's face. The closed eyelids flicker as he starts breathing deeper, the dark eyelashes trembling slightly. Then, Lexi's heart skips a beat as Daddy's eyelids open, and his eyes are blue like Lexi's eyes are._

_And they look puzzled, like Daddy doesn't know where he is, or how he got there; and his hand goes up to his cheek, right where she kissed him, and then he sees her, and goes utterly still._

_Lexi stands rooted to the floor for a second. Then she realizes what she's done._

_She runs to get her Mother…_

"_Mommy! He's awake! He's awake!"_

* * *

Morgan Grimes smiled at the story; but it was a sad smile. Yes, Alexander Coburn had awaked from a five-year coma, kissed awake by his Fairy Princess of a daughter. But he had awakened to a whole host of disabilities both physical and mental…

Alex Coburn had always been an intensely physical man with a body built for strength and endurance, and that was probably the reason he had survived such a crippling injury in the first place.

But he had awakened to a life where he had to learn to walk all over again, this complicated by the fact that his right kneecap had also been shattered. There had been reconstructive surgery, but that right knee was far weaker than the left…

There were also some functional brain damage issues for everyone to deal with; the seizures, the fugue states, and the hallucinations.

In spite of all of that, Alex had managed to keep it together mostly. There were a few bobbles along the way, such as the time he went AWOL and followed a reclusive scientist all the way to his lair. But mostly Alex was fine; until Kathleen died in 2003.

It had been a hit-and-run accident, and they never found the driver. According to Lexi, Alex had just…fallen apart when they told him.

Lexi said Alex talked to Kathleen as if she were with him still.

_This was why Lexi had to put him in that VA Home, I guess…_

Morgan sighed. Some people just couldn't seem to catch a break.

He sat up and checked his phone. There was a message from Chuck. He listened to it, his jaw almost hitting the floor.

_They took him to the Castle? Well, I certainly can't tell Lexi about this yet. I'd better get down there and retrieve him…_

"That from work?" Lexi certainly sounded calmer, which meant that Dr. Morgan's Patented Nostrum for Distressed Ladies was doing its intended job.

"Yeah…" Morgan _hated_ lying to Lexi. "I'll put the word out there too. We'll find your Dad."

"I know," Lexi smiled ruefully. "I shouldn't be thinking of this, but I would do anything to get my hands on some Crazy-Glu."

Morgan snorted at that.

"I'll hold him down for you," he said.

* * *

Alexander Coburn was asleep now, safely tucked into bed in one of the _Castle's_ spare bedrooms. It was, in fact, the room Ty Bennet used when he was too busy doing NSA work to go to the apartment he shared with Morgan Grimes.

Stephen J. Bartowski had seen the man they were bringing in, and Chuck didn't miss the look of sudden recognition in the older man's eyes.

"Where did you find him, Charles?"

"_Upstairs_," Chuck nodded upward. "He was having a seizure in the _Buy More_, and he's Alexander Coburn. I brought him here so Morgan would know where to get him. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Stephen hastened to say. "It's just that I never expected to see him again."

"You've met him before?"

"Chuck," Stephen hesitated. "He was the one I told you about; the man who told me to wear body armor if I ever came across a man called Daniel Shaw."

"That was him?" Chuck looked down at the sleeping man. "I'll be sure to thank him when he wakes up."

Speaking of which…

There was a deep rumbling sigh, and the long thin body stirred uneasily.

"Uh…what happened? Where am I?"

Coburn slowly tried to sit up.

"Whoa there buddy…"

Chuck's hands lay on Coburn's shoulders.

"You just came out of a seizure," he added. "So, let's not go charging off, okay?"

Coburn shook his head, clearly not quite back to normal yet. Then, as he looked up at Chuck, he went still, those very blue eyes of his seeming to pierce through the walls of Chuck's skull.

"You…" Coburn's right hand lifted, index finger gently tapping Chuck's forehead, right between the eyes, and Chuck's eyes almost crossed as they tracked that finger.

Coburn, however, wasn't done…

"You're the one with the…_thing_…in your head," Now it was Chuck who went very still, scarcely daring to breathe as Coburn continued to speak. "It's there, in your head…"

Coburn closed his eyes, then said the word Chuck was hoping he wouldn't say.

"_Intersect…"_

_Oh…crap…_

Chuck got to his feet, heart hammering in his chest.

"Get some rest buddy," he knew he was babbling-he always did that when he was nervous. "I'll be back in a bit."

He and Stephen stepped out of the room, and heard the door slid shut behind them, the mechanism locking firmly in place.

"How did he know?"

"Son, there are mysteries out there no one has been able to explain," Stephen lay a gentle hand on Chuck's shoulder. "This might be one of those things…"

Chuck remembered one of the things his Flash on Alexander Coburn had revealed.

"Dad, have you ever heard of _Project Neurostim?"_

"You get that in your Flash?"

"Yep; whatever Neurostim was, Alex was part of it."

"Neurostim was a spinoff of research done on the Intersect Project. One of my co-workers wondered if a scaled-down version of the Intersect could be used to…reboot the brains of people with severe brain injuries."

Stephen sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

"One hundred injured soldiers, all with traumatic brain injuries, were chosen, and Alexander Coburn must have been one of them."

"Was it a success?"

They all thought so at first," Stephen sighed. "It seemed to work slowly, but all the subjects came out of their comas. But, there were…side-effects..."

"Side-effects?"

"Altered states of mind, cases of clairvoyance and prescience, that sort of thing. All but one of the subjects died; either by their own hands, of by other hands. As it turned out, the cure was much worse than the disease. Alexander Coburn is the only survivor from the project. But that might explain how he knew you were the Intersect."

"You mean he has PSI Powers?" Chuck couldn't believe it.

_Just like Dr. Strange…_

"There you are!"

Morgan Grimes' voice brought him back.

"Where's Alex?" the shorter man strode up. "I'd like to bring him back to Lexi as soon as possible, so my girl doesn't have to worry anymore."

"Stephen Bartowski sighed.

"That might not be possible," he finally said.

"Why not?" Morgan demanded.

"It's complicated," Chuck strode over to Morgan.

"No, it's not," Morgan replied. "I go get Alex and bring him to Lexi. Nothing complicated about that at all."

"Morgan..." Chuck had no idea how he was going to tell Morgan about this.

_Just say it!_

"I don't know how he did this, buddy, but Alexander Coburn knows about the Intersect."

"Dude, that's…_impossible!"_

"I know, but there it is," Chuck felt miserable telling Morgan this.

But there was really no choice.

"He knows about the Intersect, and there's no way Alex will be safe in that Home. What if the Ring members we missed find out he knows about the Intersect? Who's going to make sure he's safe from them?"

"But Lexi…"there was anguish in Morgan's eyes. "She needs her Dad. Are you telling me you're gonna put him in one of those…bunkers?"

"Look buddy," Chuck tried to reassure him. "I'll try to come up with something. I will."

Morgan had slid down to the floor.

"This will break Lexi's heart," he finally said.

"Look," Stephen said. "Let me see if I can come up with something. There's got to be something we can do."

"I'd like to think so," Chuck smiled sadly.

Well, there were three of them, and maybe they could think up something that would keep Alexander Coburn safe without the drastic solution of the dreaded bunker…


	7. Chapter 7

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier**

**Chapter 7**

_Alex… Her _voice sounded in Alexander Coburns head, awakening him from a dream. For a brief instant he didn't know where he was. Then he remembered…

He was being held in a place underground, and the only thing keeping him from total terror was the realization that the people holding him here were the _Right People_; the people who would keep him safe from the _Wrong People_.

_I'm not sure this isn't a mistake…_

Alex could sense _Her_ reservations about this.

_What if you're wrong about these people? What if they're the __**Wrong People**__?_

"They're not," Alex murmured softly, taking care to whisper lest anyone should be listening in. He lay back on the bed, looked around the plain little room they'd left him in. No doubt it was securely locked, a simple security precaution.

_She_ was still worried…

_What if they put you into a bunker? You do realize you might never see Lexi again?_

There was that possibility, Coburn knew, a very real one, and cold fear touched his spine at the thought of it. But there had only ever been these two choices…

_Either go to the man with a computer in his brain, or let the __**Wrong People**__ take me…_

There were far worse fates out there than being put into a bunker for the rest of one's life…

There was a clicking sound, and as Coburn sat up, the door slid open and four men entered the small room; and Coburn recognized all four of them…

First there was the man with a computer-the Intersect-in his brain and he looked like he wasn't happy at all.

Next was Morgan Grimes-of all people!-and there was anguish in his eyes; no doubt over what grief Lexi was going to be put through.

The third man Coburn was slow in remembering, but finally he remembered the scientist he had tracked down back in '98; the man he had warned about wearing body armor.

_Looks like he took my advice…_

The fourth man, however, brought old memories back, from before Honduras, from when Alex Coburn had been a hale, healthy young man, fully capable of protecting himself…

"Sensei? Captain Bennet?"

Bennet smiled at that.

"It's good to see you Alex."

Now it was time to see which way the wind was blowing…

So, Coburn took a deep breath, and asked the all-important question…

"Have they decided which Bunker they're going to put me in?"

The man with the Intersect in his head flinched, and Morgan just…exploded.

"Don't say that, Alex! We're not going to let you get put into a bunker, and that's final!"

"Morgan, buddy?" the first man spoke up. "I've got this, okay?"

"All right, Chuck," Morgan nodded, let out a shaky breath. "I just don't want Lexi to lose her Dad…"

The first man-Chuck?-nodded.

"We'll do what we can," he promised.

But, what _could_ they do?

Coburn didn't want to live out the rest of his days in a bunker, but what else was there?

He brought his gaze to Bennet, knowing he could trust his old teacher; first his Drill Instructor, then his Sensei, Bennet had taught Coburn so much about himself, and the capabilities he had…

He could trust Bennet to do the right thing here, whatever the right thing was…

Bennet cleared his throat now, bring all eyes to him.

"The General has been informed," he said. "She wants to see Mr. Coburn."

Coburn nodded uncertainly as _Her_ voice hissed in his mind.

_Be careful Alex! There are things she must not know!_

It took a few minutes, but eventually everyone was in what looked like a Control Center, with banks of computers and monitors; the largest of which showing the NSA Logo. Ty Bennet settled Coburn in a chair, and then tapped a key on the keyboard in front of the giant monitor.

When the woman's stern features appeared on the monitor, Coburn felt his breath catch. _She_, too was one of the _Right People_, and that was just as well, because he just _knew_ she held his fate in her hands.

"Ah… Colonel Bennet, Agents Bartowski and Agent Grimes…"

Then her eyes focused on him...

"Mr. Alexander Coburn," she said. "You have provided us with quite the quandary. I see from looking at your files that you are the only survivor of Project Neurostim, and-"

"Excuse me," Coburn felt as if he had been punched in the chest. "Project _Neurostim? _What the hell-pardon General-is that?"

Beckman frowned.

"You weren't told?"

Coburn laughed bitterly.

"They told me I had been shot in the head by an American gun at close questers, and that I had a long recovery ahead of me; and that was _all_ they told me."

"So you don't know what they did?"

Feeling chills creeping up his spine-he had seen far too many late movies for the Insomniac Crowd-Coburn struggled to keep a calm tone in his voice.

"No, Ma'am, they didn't tell me anything."

Beckman sighed at that.

"I suppose it falls to me then…"

So, she told him the whole story, and finally Coburn had an explanation for all those baffling abilities he had received upon awakening from the coma back in '94…

He sat there, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his ability to see the future was _real_, not a hallucination, like so many of the docs had insisted; that there was an explanation for _why_ he knew things the way he did; and there had been others…people just like him…

"Where are the others?" he asked. "What happened to them? Are they okay?"

Beckman sighed again, and he could _feel_ the sadness in that exhalation.

"Please understand," she said. "This was born out of the very highest motives. Too many of our young people were coming home with traumatic brain injuries, hundreds of young men and women condemned to live out their lives in vegetative states; living, but not truly alive…"

Coburn shivered…

_I was one of those…_

Beckman continued.

"Some of our medical specialists decided to work with other scientists…"

Here, her eyes went to the scientist that seemed to be related to Chuck somehow, and that man took up the tale…

"Working together, we developed sort of a mini-intersect. Its sole purpose was to remap designated areas of the brain. It was hoped that this would…reboot the brain, and make it possible to bring all these young people out of their comas, and Project Neurostim was completely successful in its stated objective. But no good deed ever goes unpunished…"

"What happened?"

Coburn really didn't want to know. But it was always the thing you didn't want to know that would bite you in the ass later on…

The scientist sighed too…

"They all went insane," he said. "They all reported altered states of mind, prescience, clairvoyance, even some remote-viewing; and they all died, either by their own hands, or by other hands. And you're the only one left out of one hundred young men and women. Tell me, is it true you predicted 9/11?"

Coburn bowed his head, remembering all the nightmares all through the _Nineties…_

"Yeah," he said. "I just kept on dreaming of the planes hitting the Towers. If only people had _listened_ to me instead of dismissing me as a loony…"

"What's done is done," Beckman spoke crisply. "We can't change the past, but we can look to the future, which brings us to _you_, Mr. Coburn, and how we may best keep you safe…"

"Uh…General?" Chuck raised a hand. "I'd like to make a suggestion here, if I may…"

"Certainly, Agent Bartowski."

Here, Chuck rubbed his hands together, a touch nervously.

"You know," he began. "It wasn't all that long ago when you were trying to get _me_ into that bunker, and I think we all know how much of a mistake that would've been…"

"Your case is a far different one from that of Mr. Coburn," Beckman said. "You don't have any physical disabilities, and the latest Intersect has given you a plethora of abilities with which to defend yourself. Mr. Coburn here can barely walk, and running is completely out of the question for him. Further, there are the seizures and fugues states that he must contend with. The Home he currently resides in is also far too vulnerable a place should he be discovered there."

"You could have him live with Ty Bennet" Morgan Grimes spoke up.

"Don't _you_ live there?" Beckman asked.

"Well…ah…" Morgan cleared his throat, looking just a little uncomfortable as he swung his gaze to Coburn…

"I was going to ask your permission," the young man said. "But you ran off again, and ended up here. Lexi and I have been talking about moving in together. We were going to take the apartment next to Ty Bennet, the one Mrs. Tracy had before she left to live with her grand-daughter. Is it all right? I mean I would totally understand if you said no…"

Coburn felt torn, he really did. On the one hand, Lexi was his little girl. But the _Knowing_ that sometimes filled him told him that Morgan was Lexi's One-and-only…

"Do you love her?"

"Yes, sir," Morgan affirmed. "With every fiber of my being."

So Coburn guessed it was decided…

But one more question remained; one that left him feeling positively dizzy…

After all these years of living life as a cripple, unable to do anything…

"Will I be allowed to serve my country?"

Beckman raised an eyebrow.

"Of course you will, Mr. Coburn. You shall share Colonel Bennet's living quarters as soon as our people have made the apartment Handicap-Compliant. That should take about six hours, so you and the Colonel can wait here until everything is made ready."

* * *

Everything happened according to schedule, much to Morgan Grimes' surprise. The cover story for Coburn's change of residence had taken a little work, but it was clear to Morgan that Lexi accepted the explanation of Ty Bennet as an old Marine buddy of Alex's. Further, she was heartened to see that somehow-rather mysteriously in fact-her father had qualified for a little-known program that gave gravely handicapped vets like her father a live-in nurse to look after him 24/7…

Of course, she couldn't know that _that_ particular nurse also knew how to strip and clean guns, and held multiple black belts in all sorts of Martial Arts. But she knew her father was happier-looking than he had been in some time, and _that_ met with her approval.

When everyone had gotten moved into their new digs, Chuck decided to throw a house-warming party, and there was pizza and soda; and Morgan and Lexi had a gift for Alex Coburn.

Coburn looked at the little thing suspiciously.

"What the hell is it?" he bounced the thing in his hand.

"It's an IPOD, Alex," Morgan said. "It's high time you moved into the Twenty-First Century."

He put the ear buds into Coburn's ears, turned the thing on, and saw Coburn's eyes widen.

"We found all your favorite songs-All the _Yes_, and _Pink Floyd_, and some others Lexi says you like, and put them all on your IPOD, so you can have your music any time you want."

"What about my cassette deck and my tapes?"

Morgan sighed…

_You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink…_

"They're all in your bedroom if you insist on living in the Stone Age. But all your songs are also here on the IPOD too…"

"As long as I can still play them in my room," Coburn grumbled his thanks, then settled down to listen to _Close to the Edge_, by _Yes_ as the party got started…


	8. Chapter 8

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier**

Oscar Fuentes was one of the more popular physical therapists at the Burbank VA Home. He treated all the disabled vets living there with dignity and respect, and in return, most of the residents liked him too.

He was also an employee of the late Alexei Volkoff; and his reason for working here had nothing to do with the disabled vets he helped so cheerfully. In fact, it could truthfully be said he was here because of just one man; Alexander Coburn…

Coburn's sudden departure from the Home only added to the worry on Fuentes' plate right now. His new boss, Colonel James Keller, had invited Fuentes to a local eatery within walking distance of the Home, and Fuentes went there with more than just considerable trepidation.

Sitting directly across from Keller in the small booth in the family-owned diner, he accepted the huge plate of apple pie from the cheerful blue-eyed waitress, recognizing her as Coburn's daughter, Lexi Coburn. Then, when she left to serve other patrons, he turned his attention back to James Keller.

Tall, with graying blondish hair, Keller looked him over with glacially pale blue eyes that didn't miss anything.

"So," the man said. "Enjoying your undercover stint?"

Fuentes shrugged.

"It's peaceful," he said. "And it pays the rent."

_When is he going to get around to whatever it is that he wants?_

"I'm interested in one of the men living there," apparently Keller was a mind reader. "What do you know about Alexander Coburn?"

Fuentes narrowed his eye at that. Coburn had a reputation for…oddness.

"Alex?" he said.

"Yeah…" Keller nodded. "We served together in Honduras in the late Eighties. He was one of the best snipers in the entire US Armed Forces. A pity, what happened to him…"

Fuentes nodded. He had read Coburn's files before coming to work at the VA Home.

"Well, he's not a sniper anymore," Fuentes spoke aloud. "So why the sudden interest in him?"

"I've heard…" here Keller shrugged. "He's become…_special_…over the last several years."

"Special," Fuentes frowned. "Are you talking about his special gifts? Or his mental state?"

"I'd like to know about both please." Keller nodded, traces of impatience beginning to show. "Volkoff didn't send you to work here out of the goodness of his heart. What were you doing there all this time?"

Here Fuentes shrugged uncomfortably.

"I was ordered to monitor Alexander Coburn," he said stiffly. "I bugged his bedroom, and bathroom, and also had bugs in all the Common Areas; the TV Room, the Game Room, and all the lavatories…"

"And…" Keller prompted.

"Coburn has…_gifts_," Fuentes spoke reluctantly. "But he's also completely loony-toons. I have tons of recorded conversations that he's had with…absolutely no one. He especially had these in his room; loads of crap about staying away from the _wrong people_, and finding the _right people_. I think he might have known about me too. All the other guys like me just fine. But Alex wouldn't even let me touch him."

"That's just Alex being Alex," Keller laughed. "He always had this…_thing_…about people touching him. Trust issues, I think."

"Anyway, Colonel," Fuentes sipped his sweet coffee. "I never knew what it was that Mr. Volkoff wanted of him."

"Volkoff was more than a touch mad himself," Keller picked up his black and bitter coffee. "But he had quite the eye for weapons, and a man with gifts like Coburn-the ability to accurately predict the future-would make quite a formidable weapon, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah…" Fuentes could see that. "But it's not like he can control it or do it on demand. It's a form of epilepsy-he does have grand mal seizures-and there's no control at all over the process."

"Even so," Keller said. "I would like to meet him, and make my own determination."

"Um, sir…"

_This_ was going to be awkward…

"Colonel," Fuentes swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. "Alexander Coburn doesn't live at the VA Home anymore."

"What?" Keller's blue eyes flashed with anger. "Why wasn't I told of this?"

"It only happened two days ago," Fuentes pleaded. "And, in mind of the…change of ownership, I wasn't sure who to call, or even if I should."

Keller took a deep breath, seemed to be counting to ten.

"Yes," he nodded after a bit. "I see your point. So…any idea where he went Mr. Fuentes?"

"Apparently, he moved in with an ex-Marine buddy of his. I think the name was Bennet."

"_Ty_ Bennet?" now Keller looked flabbergasted.

"Yeah…That was the guy's name."

Fuentes couldn't help the shiver that ran through his body.

_My first meeting with my new boss, and all I do is disappoint him…_

People who disappointed Alexei Volkoff always seemed to wind up dead.

"Relax, Oscar," Keller was back to his cheerful self. "Grab your gear, all of those tapes you made on Alex. We'll take the Company Limo back to Burbank HQ. We'll order up some rare steaks and beer, and go over all those tapes. As of now, you are my expert on all things Alexander Coburn. Ready to quit your day job?"

The gush of relief was so strong, it made Fuentes' knees tremble. Keller didn't want to kill him!

"Yeah," Fuentes said. "I'm ready to move on."

* * *

Alexander Coburn was finally beginning to get settled into his new home. Ty Bennet had moved all his gear, including all the spy stuff and his personal stuff, up to the second floor of the two-story condo, leaving the first floor to Alex and his CIA-Approved Nurse, Bryan Krause. Just about everything met with Alex's approval; except for that damned Power-chair. He didn't like it, but Krause insisted that he use it when at home, or in the courtyard

He hated that chair with a passion. Ty Bennet was very understanding about it all, as was everyone else. But they all-to a man, woman, and child-insisted he use that blasted chair.

Hell, he wasn't a dummy. He knew why he hated that chair.

_It's telling the whole world that I'm too weak to get up and walk on my own two feet. It's telling the world I'm a cripple…_

"Dad," Lexi had scolded him. "It's something that will make it easier for you to get around. At least in the privacy of your home. And I'll breathe easier too. I worry about you, I really do."

_Oh…hell…_

If anyone knew how to guilt-trip Alex, it was his daughter.

So, he'd have to accept the Power-Chair as yet one more indignity to put up with…

"Alex," Ty Bennet was coming down the stairs, burly body dressed for work in the tan slacks and green polo of a _Buy More_ Sales Associate.

"Are you ready to go?" the dark-skinned man asked.

Everyone in the group called _Team Bartowski_ had cover jobs; with the exception of Stephen and Mary Bartowski, who were doing just fine in their cover of Early-Elderly Retired Couple and Grandparents to Ellie and Awesome's first child, Clara…

Everyone else, though, had cover jobs. Sarah Walker's cover job was at the _Orange Orange,_ and everyone else had their cover jobs at the _Buy More_.

On the surface, the cover job Bennet found for Coburn sounded like an odd fit. Under normal circumstances he would make a far-from-ideal Phone Operator. But the Burbank _Buy More_ was not a normal _Buy More_ by any stretch of the imagination.

It was the hub for a major CIA/NSA base, and unknown to all the civilian staff, the underpinnings, the surveillance and communications systems, were all funded by the CIA and the NSA.

The Phone system was one of the best automated systems in the world, run by a rather intuitive computer; and the number of people who actually needed a flesh-and-blood person was extremely small, so Alex only had to deal with two or three phone calls on any given day…

On the negative side, he was situated near the Nerd herd desk, and there seemed to be plenty of people who thought he was a member of the Nerd herd too.

But he was near Chuck too, just in case he had a fugue attack, and he had come to accept the fact that Chuck was now his handler…

Further, he was a member of Team Bartowski, the team that seemed to save the world on a daily basis; and Coburn just felt privileged to be able to serve his country again, after all these years.

So, today, it was off to another day at the _Buy More._ Leaving that blasted Power-chair inside the condo, he hobbled over to Bennet's CIA-modded SUV, and canes in lap, settled himself in the passenger seat. Everyone else piled in too, and they were off. Sarah Walker had the day off from the frozen yogurt store, so she was going _Downstairs_ to the _Castle_ to look over some old files and type up her latest report to send on to their boss, General Diane Beckman.

Morgan Grimes actually had _two_ jobs to do; his cover job of store Manager, which mainly meant riding herd on Jeff and Lester-and Liaison between the Spy World and the Real World. _That _particular job could get dicey on occasion; but Morgan was proving quick and perceptive.

Ty Bennet and Chuck Bartowski were settling into their several different roles. Chuck was, before all else, _The Intersect_, the human computer who had instant access to all the world's security files; and Ty Bennet had originally been his handler. Now, Bartowski no longer needed a handler. He had learned to stand on his own two feet, and do his own protecting.

And so, now, he had a new role. Along with Sarah and Bennet, he was now Alex Coburn's handler, and, as Alex would be the first to admit, Coburn was really in no position to protect himself; and-with his ability to see the future, and _possibly do more_-he was now every bit as much an asset as the Intersect.

The day proceeded with no unseemly interruptions-except for the above-mentioned Jeff and Lester; who both gave Coburn a raging case of the heebie-jeebies; but Morgan Grimes swept in to the rescue, sending that ill-favored duo elsewhere to do…whatever it was that they seemed to do…

Then it was time for lunch, and Bennet escorted Coburn down to the _Castle_. Over lunch, _Sizzling Shrimp _this time, everyone looked over all these surveillance photos taken from just south of the US/Mexico border.

Chuck's Intersect capacity only identified one of the two men captured on the photos.

"That's Martin Santirez," Bartowski pointed out the stocky Latino with black hair heavily streaked with gray. "He's been wanted for terrorist activities ever since the early Seventies."

Coburn picked one of the photos up, looked at Santirez. There was…_something_…about it that triggered something deep in Coburn's brain…

_He's lying helpless on the ground, his right knee shattered, and agony exploding up and down his right leg. Martin Santirez is there, standing a few feet away, but it's the man looming over Coburn that has all of his attention. His face is blurred, and Coburn can't tell if he knows him or not. But his right hand isn't blurry, and the handgun shines with an almost preternatural light, and the safety's click is an audible snap in the evening air. Then, the muzzle flares…_

"Alex, you okay?" Ty Bennet's voice shattered the…dream or fugue, whatever it was Coburn didn't really know. He looked up from the photo, willing his hands to stop shaking. Bennet was standing right next to him. Coburn put the photo down, took a deep shaky breath.

"I'm fine," he said. "It wasn't a fugue."

"Then what happened?" That was Chuck.

Coburn shivered.

"I think it was a memory," he said at last. He tapped the photo gently with a finger. "I think Martin Santirez was there when I got shot. But he wasn't the one who shot me."

He couldn't explain how he knew this, but he was sure the man who shot him, the man who had loomed over him, was a fellow American.

He sighed. That man, whoever he was, had taken _everything_ from him; his career in the Marines, his health, his very future…

Forcing the bitterness away, he picked up the photo once more, looking at Santirez' companion this time.

Tall and slender with artfully combed silver hair and patrician features, everything about this man shouted aesthete, a man more comfortable at the opera, ballet, or museum…

But suddenly, the _Knowing_ filled Alexander Coburn.

"He's a Belgian," the words just slipped right out of him. "And he's selling the Intersect…"

He snapped out of the _Knowing_, stunned by what he had heard his own voice say.

"How can he sell the Intersect?" he looked at Chuck Bartowski. "Aren't _you_ the Intersect?"

"There could be other Intersects out there," Chuck replied. "_FULCRUM _created at least two that I know of, thanks to Ted Roark. And Daniel Shaw found access to an Intersect through the _Ring_. And don't forget Manoosh. He pretty much cooked an Intersect up on his own."

"So…there could be lots of copies of various and assorted Intersect programs out there?"

Coburn was appalled.

"Can't you even try to put a lid on it?"

"It's sort of like a genie," Chuck explained gently. "Once it's out of the bottle, it's out for good and there's nothing we can do about it. Hell, even _you_ have an Intersect, of sorts, in your head, Alex. It's a small one, and very limited in scope, but it's the reason why you woke up out of a coma you weren't supposed to wake up from."

Coburn nodded reluctantly. But the _Knowing_, what it had revealed, terrified him.

"The Belgian's going to sell it to Santirez, and Santirez is going to upload it in a major city-New York, I think-and everyone's gonna get that uploaded into their brains, and they're all gonna go crazy or die…"

Coburn could see that possible future, the streets of New York City, and all its boroughs, filled with dead bodies, and raving lunatics who no longer truly qualified as human beings.

"We have to stop him," Coburn said.

"All right," Chuck nodded. "First thing we do is find the Belgian…"


	9. Chapter 9

Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier, Chapter 9

Chuck called General Diane Beckman immediately and filled her in on the afternoon's revelations concerning Martin Santirez and the _Belgian_. She frowned as she listened.

"Are you _sure_ he's selling an Intersect?"

Chuck looked back at Alexander Coburn, and the man nodded back.

"Yes, Ma'am," Chuck turned back to Beckman. "Our…newest asset is absolutely sure."

For himself, Chuck had a few qualms about Coburn's odd ability. But the Intersect had given him enough hard evidence on _Project Neurostim_-its early success and its ultimate failure-that he could at least concede the possibility, indeed strong likelihood that said PSI abilities existed, and that Alexander Coburn possessed them in full.

He brought his attention back to Beckman.

"I don't know where or how the _Belgian_ acquired the Intersect," he continued. "But I believe Alex when he says he's going to sell it to Martin Santirez."

"And Santirez is going to upload it somewhere in New York City," Beckman arched an eyebrow. "Seems like an odd use to put the Intersect program to."

"Perhaps," Ty Bennet spoke up. "However, if it were uploaded through a Major TV network during…say…"Dancing With the Stars", or "American Idol" a major portion of the population across the entire United states would be watching, and the end result would be…devastating."

Chuck shuddered at the thought. He had seen what the Intersect did to minds-no, _brains_-that weren't right for the Intersect. Catatonia, irreversible brain damage, death…

That would be the fate of the average ordinary person if exposed to the Intersect. The death toll could range in the hundreds of millions; depending on how much audience Santirez could get.

_A high-rated TV show like "American Idol" could destroy America…_

"It would make a highly unusual, but very potent WMD," Bennet continued. "And one that would be very difficult for the authorities to find; unlike bombs, nuclear devices, and bio weapons, this one might be virtually undetectable."

Chuck nodded.

"I think my Dad should be brought into this. If anyone knows how to stop this, he will."

"Agreed," Beckman nodded. "And I shall so inform him. But first we must find the _Belgian_."

Chuck was frowning.

"How did he get his hands on the Intersect in the first place? It's not like we had any just lying around unattended."

Beckman bit her lip…

"I didn't want to tell you," she admitted. "Someone apparently discovered where we were holding Manoosh. He was taken a little over a month ago."

"_What?"_ Chuck came to his feet. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because we were all up to our eyebrows with Daniel Shaw and the Ring," there was compassion in Beckman's voice and eyes. "I'm sorry Chuck."

Chuck closed his eyes. Manoosh…that innocent, _brilliant_ Natcho Sampler lover; he had created an Intersect all on his own, and tried to sell it as a service on the open market. And Chuck had been forced to ingratiate himself with the man, befriend him, and betray him…

Even now, all these years later, that didn't quite sit well with him. But it _had_ been for his own protection; what with every illegal organization-most importantly, the Ring-after him and the thing he had created.

But Chuck had betrayed him, shot him in the back-literally, with a trank gun-and sent him to live out the rest of his days in a government-run bunker.

_But someone got to him anyway…_

"Any idea who did this?" Ty Bennet asked. "Or where they went?"

"We don't know who yet," Beckman said. "We tracked them to the Philippines, but that's where we lost them."

"They're not there."

All eyes went to Alexander Coburn. His pupils had dilated, and Chuck was sure he was on the verge of a seizure. But all he did was talk…

"They're in New York. The _Belgian_ is at the Carlton Towers Hotel, and he's going to sell the Intersect there. He's taken one of the two top floor pent-house suites."

Then, he seemed to come out of it, muttering something about feeling _like a goddam puppet…_

Again, Beckman frowned.

"Can we trust our newest resource? No offense, Mr. Coburn."

"None taken, General," Coburn replied. "I'm not sure I trust it myself; even though it's never been wrong that I can tell."

"Only one way to find out," Ty Bennet said. "We go there and see if the _Belgian_ is where Alex said he would be."

* * *

The next day, everyone-except for Morgan Grimes and Mary Bartowski-boarded the CIA-owned jet bound for New York City. Morgan had wanted to go, to be a support for both Chuck and Alex. But Alex had given him a set of orders.

"Stay home and keep an eye on Lexi for me. Don't let anything happen to her."

So, that was that…

Much to Coburn's disgust, Bryan Krause came along too, complete with a highly modified wheelchair, and orders from Beckman for Coburn to use it. But, as upsetting as that wheelchair was, his cover had it beat hands down.

"I'm the disabled owner of a major magazine?" he scoffed at the idea. "Who makes these things up anyway?"

"Me, this time," Chuck Bartowski said. "But I know what I'm doing. Just remember that you're _rich, _and demand the best of everything."

"In short, behave like an asshole."

Chuck winced at Coburn's choice of words.

"Hey," he said. "Look at the bright side. You can order up champagne and caviar any time you want."

Coburn made a face at that.

_Caviar…ecch…_

"Make it _surf-and-turf_, and you might have a deal."

So, _Jonathan Casey,_ Owner of the magazine _SKI!_, appeared at Carlton towers Hotel with his entourage. His secretary, blonde and very pretty handled the reservations, while his accountant, an older man with streaks of gray in his hair, talked nonstop on his cellphone. The blondish man attending to Casey's every need was obviously a nurse/companion of some kind, and the last two men, one muscular and dark-skinned, the other more slender of build with dark hair and eyes, were clearly bodyguards, what with the way they gave the stink-eye to everyone who strayed too close.

But soon, the disabled magazine owner was safely ensconced in his pent-house luxury suite.

And the real work could begin…

"It's clean," Ty Bennet completed his sweep of the place, and Coburn was sure the management would be pleased to know their suite was totally bug-free; in _every _sense of the word_…_

"What do we do next?" Coburn asked. He was beginning to like being part of a team again.

"We see if the _Belgian_ is in," Bennet picked up some knives, and guns too. "If not well break in and look around, see if he's left anything that can help us. We might be a while, Alex, so go ahead and order up some Room Service for yourself and Bryan."

"I don't get to do anything?" Coburn frowned.

"You already have," Chuck said. "You got us inside and on the right floor."

'You know what I mean," Coburn grumped.

"Yeah," Chuck agreed. "And I understand how you feel. I always got told to stay in the car, for what it's worth. _This_ is much more comfortable."

Coburn wanted to argue, he really did. But, in the end, he knew Chuck was right.

_I'm not a fighter. I used to be, but I'm not one now…_

"I'll wait for you guys to finish before I order anything," he said.

* * *

Leaving Alexander Coburn and Bryan Krause behind, the others went across the hall.

"Got it," Sarah made quick work of the lock, and now they were all inside, guns out as they looked for the _Belgian_.

Nobody was in.

Chuck looked around the large Sitting Room. It would've passed for a full Living Room in most houses with its spacious sofas, the huge wall-mounted flat screen TV, and the large linen-covered table in front of the largest sofa…

But as they searched all the rooms, closets and drawers-everything from coats to underwear-they didn't find anything. Not even a discarded note in the trash…

"There's got to be _something!_" Chuck smacked the linen-covered table in frustration.

And the table went _beep!_ In response.

"Uh…Sarah..? Dad?" Chuck looked down at the table, now beeping and buzzing quietly to itself.

Bennet stripped off the linen covering, and they all stared at _it_…whatever it was…

It looked a bit like a sarcophagus, albeit one with a flickering digital display.

"I think it's a stasis-cubicle," Stephen Bartowski bent over, looking at the digital readouts. He looked up at his son.

""Chuck," he said. "I think you woke it up."

The thing continued to beep, whir, and buzz. Then something went _click…_

Everyone backed up as the thing…opened up like a table-shaped flower, the open lid revealing a human form, clad in pajamas.

"Oh, my god…"

It was Manoosh, eyes open, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling.

"He's breathing," Stephen quickly took his pulse. "He's alive."

"Manoosh!" Chuck bent over him. "You okay buddy?"

There was no response to Chuck's voice, or the penlight Stephen flashed in his eyes.

"Let's get him out of here," Bennet suggested. "We'll figure out what to do later."

Chuck nodded, and hauled Manoosh's body over his shoulder. He felt incredibly light, as if he weighed nothing at all; and it took all of Chuck's self-control not to start crying then and there. Keeping himself together, even if only by a hair, he nodded.

"Let's get out of here."

They made it to the door, just in time for the door to open. Six men entered, and Chuck looked at the silver-haired gentleman who clearly was in command.

_The Belgian…_

The man tilted his head.

"Ah…" he said. "I do so hate uninvited guests. Joseph, take their guns please."

Chuck gritted his teeth. They were outnumbered, and there didn't seem to be much they could do about that.

_I can't let them take Manoosh back. He deserves better than that…_

* * *

Once again the _Knowing_ came upon Alexander Coburn.

"They're in trouble," he told Bryan Krause. "If we don't do something now, it'll all be for nothing. You got extra guns?"

"I've got three," Krause replied stiffly as he got his guns out.

"Three guns, only two hands," Coburn observed.

"Your point being?" Krause challenged.

"I know how to use guns," Coburn said. "I may be crippled, but I can still shoot."

"I don't know," Krause looked at him dubiously. "If General Beckman finds out…"

"Look!" Coburn snapped. "Guns are like bicycles. Once you learn you never forget. Besides, the mission will fail if we don't get started now. Just give me a gun, okay?"

Nodding reluctantly, muttering about how it would be his head on the plate of Alex got himself hurt or killed, Krause handed him a handgun. Quickly, Coburn checked the gun's safety. Then, he slipped it under his shirt.

"Ready," he said.

They moved out, Coburn in his Power chair, Bryan Krause by his side. Krause rang the doorbell.

"Room Service!" he announced.

The door yanked open, and a large man stood there, gun drawn, ready to fire. But Coburn was quicker. The man staggered back, shot neatly right between the eyes.

Coburn gunned his Power chair, speeding in through the door, taking down two more guards as he went. He could leave the other two guards to Sarah and Bennet. Indeed, he had achieved the Big Prize.

"On your knees," he ordered the _Belgian_. "And keep those hands up high where I can see them."

Soon, it was all done, and Bennet called the NSA, to request Cleaners for the suite, and interrogators for the _Belgian_. All the while, he was sending pointed glances Coburn's way, and Coburn figured he was due a scolding. But he didn't care right now. He had saved his team, and that was what was important.

Once the _Belgian_ had been delivered to the interrogators, everyone went back their suite. Everyone was in the Master bedroom, watching as Krause examined Manoosh.

"I think it's catatonia," he said. "We'll know more when we get him to a NSA Infirmary."

Chuck Bartowski looked down at Manoosh, anguish in his eyes. He laid a gentle hand on Manoosh's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "So sorry…"

"Alex" Ty Bennet's voice pulled Coburn away from what was going on in the Master Bedroom…

"That was a very dangerous thing you did back there, Alex."

"I know," Coburn faced him steadily. "Not much of a choice though…"

"Bennet's shoulders slumped.

"You're right," he spoke reluctantly. "Just don't make a habit of it."

Hours later the NSA Cleaners had come and gone, and the hotel suite was back to normal, the carpets replaced, bullet holes plastered and filled in, and all the blood cleaned away.

"The interrogators broke the _Belgian_," Sarah announced as she put her cell phone away. "He's already sold the Intersect program to Martin Santirez."

"We have to find him before he uploads it," Chills went up Coburns spine as he contemplated what might happen. "Millions could die, if not more…"

"We'll get on that first thing in the morning," Chuck looked exhausted, emotionally, physically. "Right now we need to recharge."

"But-"

"Chuck's right, Alex," Ty Bennet laid a hand on Coburn's shoulder. "We go in tired, we go in sloppy, we go in sloppy, and agents will get killed."

Chuck nodded as he took a seat near Coburn so they were face-to-face.

"You mentioned _surf-and-turf_ earlier," he said. "You up to doing some damage to some steak and lobsters?"

"Yeah…" Coburn drew in a shaky breath. Thing was, he knew Chuck was right. They'll all needed to rest so they would all be at their best come the morning.

So, he watched as Chuck Bartowski picked up the hotel phone and ordered up Room Service; Prime Rib and Lobster tails, with all the trimmings, for six people.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chuck vs. the Unknown Soldier Chapter 10 **

_NYC, NY_

Alexander Coburn awakened in the morning after a particularly disturbing series of nightmares; mostly involving his daughter, Lexi, in peril from several different, but very vague sources. There was no one single threat he could point to, no one single thing he could identify. It was just this vague sense of something wicked this way coming…

It all made for a rather more grumpy-than-usual Alexander Coburn. But no one was calling him on his mood today. Everyone else seemed to be in a subdued mood this morning as well; Chuck Bartowski in particular.

He'd already called _HQ_ to get an update on Manoosh's condition, and the news was grim…

Apparently, the _Belgian_ hadn't used drugs to wrest the Intersect from his victim. It had been a _machine_; one that hooked directly into the brain itself…

"The doctors say the catatonia is irreversible," Bartowski told the others. "Manoosh will be like that for the rest of his life…"

Sarah Walker took his hand, stroked it.

"There was no way you could've known-"

"I should've let him go!" Bartowski burst out. "I should've let him run for it; not shot him in the back the way I did."

"Chuck," Ty Bennet stood. "Manoosh got into this mess because he was trying to sell his Intersect to the highest bidder. If you had allowed him to escape, he would've been taken by the Ring, and they wouldn't have treated him any more kindly than the _Belgian_. As much as we want to, we can't save _everyone."_

Bartowski nodded slowly, but Coburn could see the sadness-and the guilt in him.

"He _trusted_ me," the young man said. "And I betrayed him."

"You did it to keep him safe," Walker reminded him, he hand gently caressing his shoulder.

"Yeah…" Bartowski muttered. "And we can all see how well _that_ turned out."

"Look…Chuck…" Coburn stopped to clear his throat. "I know you're upset about this guy. But we're here to find Martin Santirez, and to stop him from using the Intersect as a WMD. If we can't do that, Manoosh's fate might seem like a tender mercy."

Bennet nodded at that.

"Alex is right," he said. "Finding Santirez is our priority now**."**

"Yes," Bartowski straightened, pulled himself together. "You're right. Let's go…"

* * *

_Burbank, CA_

Colonel James Keller's lair turned out to be a surprisingly comfortable place. Yes, there was plentiful evidence of high-tech everywhere Oscar Fuentes looked. But the residential area was luxurious and comfortable, and the…_servants_ was the only word Fuentes could think of that seemed to apply here…were attentive to his every need. If Keller really was an Evil Overlord, he was an exceptionally amiable one.

As promised, the steaks were rare and tasty, and the beer was ice-cold. As they ate, the two men listened to the tapes Fuentes had made on Alexander Coburn.

Keller snorted a little at the whispered conversations apparently made when Coburn was alone.

"I did tell you, sir," Fuentes apologized. "Alex always talked to himself when he thought he was alone. The Head shrink thought he was talking to Kathleen, his dead wife."

"All right," Keller sipped his beer meditatively. "What about his daughter, and his friends, if he has any?"

"Like you said, there's his daughter. Apparently she was named after her father, and everyone calls her Lexi. Her boyfriend is a Buy More Store Manager, name of Morgan Grimes. I've got them on the tapes too…"

Fuentes selected a tape, one of the recent ones from just before Coburn moved out of the VA Home, and fast-forwarded it until they came to a part where Coburn's daughter scolded him about going out in the rain.

"Sounds like she cares a lot for him…"

"Yeah," Fuentes affirmed. "He ran off a lot of times the last year or so, and she absolutely hated it; especially that one time last year when he ran off on a rainy day. He got wet and caught a cold. It developed into Pneumonia and he almost died. Lexi almost lost her job because she was spending all her time with him in the ICU…"

"Sounds like a very loving daughter."

"You've met her, you know…"

"Eh?"

"When we met at the Diner," Fuentes explained. "She was our waitress."

"That pretty blue-eyed little thing?"

"Yep," Fuentes nodded. "She got the job there, near the Home, so she could see him on her Lunch Breaks."

Keller nodded to himself after a bit.

"Good to know," he said. "Now, let's go over more of these tapes…"

* * *

_NYC, NY_

The CIA and NSA eyes-and-ears didn't find any trace of Martin Santirez until early evening. But that was when he was traced to Fox's New York Office Building. So that was where Team Bartowski went. On the way, Alexander Coburn was forced to listen to Chuck Bartowski's rant against Fox Network…

"They killed Firefly, but they allow American Idol to live!"

Sarah Walker smiled indulgently at Bartowski, and two things became clear to Coburn right then. First, she had a long familiarity with Bartowski's hatred of Fox. And, second, she and Bartowski were…closer…than was normal for CIA or NSA spies.

_What kind of spy is Chuck Bartowski anyway?_

He listened as Bartowski inexplicably began to sing…

"_Jayne, the man they call Jayne…"_

Sarah Walker joined in, and Stephen Bartowski and Ty Bennet merely shook their heads, rueful grins on both of their faces.

Alex Coburn tuned Chuck and Sarah's singing out as he wheeled along in his Power Chair, Bryan Krause keeping pace right at his side.

Bennet's contacts had traced Santirez to the _Fox Network Building_, although they weren't actually sure he was there.

Coburn, on the other hand, _knew_ he was there; although _how_ he could know this was completely beyond him.

_All the others like me died. They all went mad and killed themselves, one way or another. But I'm alive. What do I have that all the others didn't?_

_Her_ voice sounded silently in his head…

_You have people who love you…_

_So did all the others,_ Coburn didn't even dare to whisper, surrounded as he was by all the others…

_And you also have people who understand what Neurostim did to your brain…_

_Her_ voice continued to speak in his head.

_Chuck Bartowski, for example, and his father. Stephen designed the Intersect, and Chuck's brain houses the latest iteration of the Intersect. He hasn't gone mad with that in his head…_

But it was Coburn's understanding that Chuck's brain was…unique. Perhaps a mutation, or maybe the evolutionists were right, and a brain like Chuck's was the next step up on the evolutionary ladder. Either way, Chuck's brain was one in a billion, and the only one that could truly handle the complexities of the Intersect.

_She_ was still speaking in his head…

_Project Neurostim put something very like an Intersect in your head too. Maybe you survived because your brain is special too…_

Not a comforting notion to realize he had an Intersect-like thing in his head. But Coburn had to admit that he _had_ survived where all the other…_victims_…of Project Neurostim had died.

Maybe that _did_ mean there was something special about his brain.

_Or maybe my Mama was right all those years ago when she said I was the most mule-headed boy she had ever known…_

Now, they were inside _Fox Building_, in the vast Main Reception Lobby.

"You and Bryan can stay here," Bennet told him. "The rest of us will look for Santirez."

"I know how to defend myself," Coburn protested. "And I saved the whole lot of you last night!"

"You were lucky," Bennet stated. "What if you had a fugue, or a seizure?"

"I…"

"Alex," Chuck Bartowski strode up. "Your job is to see what needs to be seen, or known, and to tell us what we need to do, and you've done that. Let us do the heavy lifting, okay?"

"Yeah…" Coburn nodded reluctantly. He _hated_ it, but Bennet and Bartowski were right. He had done his job. Now it was Chuck's turn, and Bennet's turn.

Sighing, he turned and headed his Power Chair to a position by the Main Receptionist's Desk, Bryan Krause right behind.

* * *

Chuck Bartowski led the rest of the group to Building Security. A simple flashing of their CIA-or-NSA Identity Cards was all it took to let them inside the large room with its banks of monitor screens.

Chuck sighed. He understood how Alex Coburn felt. It hadn't been all that long ago when _he_ had been the one told to _stay in the car_. Even when it turned out that staying in the car wasn't really all that safe.

But they had been working to keep Chuck out of danger.

_Like I'm doing with Alex right now…_

There was, however, a key difference in their respective situations. When Chuck first received the Intersect, he knew nothing of the spy world, or violence; and the closest he had ever come to knowing about guns were those first-person shooters he and Morgan always used to play.

Alex Coburn though…

He had been in the Marines; and-even at twenty years of age-had a World-Class reputation as a sniper. He'd had the beginnings of a storied career in the Marines, and there had been the promise of…_something more_…

A career in the NSA.

Well…a gunshot wound to the head had ended all of that, and so much more besides…

Alex had joined Team Bartowski with far more understanding of the ways of violence than Chuck had in his first year.

_But…_

In many ways he was far more helpless than Chuck had ever been; with all those physical disabilities hampering him…

_It must grate on Alex, not being able to defend and protect like he used to be able to do. He must hate being the one needing protection…_

Chuck sighed again. This wasn't the time to reflect on Alex Coburn's problems. They had a terrorist to stop…

He looked at all the monitors. Searching for that one, all-important face. He found it.

_Uh-oh…_

"Uh…guys?" he stared at the screen, pure horror crawling up his spine…

"You found Santirez?" Bennet joined him.

"Yeah," Chuck nodded, feeling ill.

_Maybe we should've had Alex come in with us after all…_

* * *

Alexander Coburn was feeling bored now that there was nothing to do but wait for Chuck and Company to save the day. He was feeling thirsty too, and fortunately there was a water fountain almost directly across the room from the Main Receptionist Desk. He headed off for it in his powered wheel-chair.

"Where are you off to?" Bryan Krause demanded.

"Just want some water," Coburn pointed to the water fountain. "It's right over there."

A man was ahead of him, so Coburn had no choice but to wait his turn. Then the man straightened and turned to leave…

_Martin Santirez…_

Coburn froze, as memory assailed him; memory of the day he had been shot. Santirez had been there that day, along with the man who had shot him.

_The best goddam sniper I've ever seen and you just had to do this…_

The man's voice sounded in his head, and with the voice came the memory of who he was…

_Colonel James Keller…I followed him and caught him giving cash to Santirez. He said something about a Ring…_

_Keller shot me…_

"I remember you," the words slipped out of Coburn. "You were there when Keller shot me."

"Keller?" Santirez raised an eyebrow. "That was many years ago my friend. And you are in my way…"

He drew a gun, and Coburn didn't have time to react.

"Drop your weapon!" Bryan Krause had abandoned his role of Nurse for that of CIA Agent.

As fast as Krause was, and the other Security Guards in the area, Santirez was faster.

Three guards went down and Krause was well, clutching his knee, and Alex was hauled out of his Power Chair, one of Santirez's arms around his neck. The other hand holding the gun aimed at the side of Coburn's head.

It had all happened so quickly too…

_Ty Bennet's right,_ Coburn realized. _I'm not the fighter I used to be…_

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Bennet, both Bartowskis, and Sarah Walker enter the room. Bryan Krause had crawled away to take up position where his wounded knee wouldn't be a liability.

Everyone had their weapons out, and Coburn figured that one good sneeze was all it would take for hell to erupt…

"Don't shoot!" Bartowski commanded. "We have a hostage situation."

_Oh, yeah…definitely a hostage situation…_

Coburn felt like a complete fool for letting himself get taken like this.

Bartowski edged forward carefully, his eyes on Coburn.

"How are you feeling buddy?"

"Just peachy," Coburn drawled.

"You finished with your little chit-chat?" Santirez snarled. "I want a clear path out of here, and I'll kill him if I don't get what I want."

"No," suddenly Bartowski looked grim. "You won't. You'll surrender, and then we'll have a quiet little conversation about your activities these past few weeks."

"You can go to hell!" Santirez's finger tightened on the trigger, and Coburn felt sure this was going to be his last day on Earth. That was when he saw something…_incredible_.

Bartowski closed his eyes for a second, and the lids flickered a little. Then, his eyes opened, and Bartowski…_moved_.

It was like nothing Coburn had ever seen before. Bartowski moved faster than the eye could follow, flowing from stance to stance in a blur of motion.

_Something_ knocked Coburn to the floor, smacking the breath right out of his lungs as a single gunshot rang out. Coburn lay there, just trying to breathe as the world went to hell all around him. There was the sound of scuffling footsteps, and the meaty sound of physical blows. He felt hands grasp him by the shoulders, dragging him away from the fight, and he struggled against his apparent captor.

"It's me, Alex" Ty Bennet's voice sounded in his ear. Bennet's hands frisked over his body gently, checking for wounds, both apparent and not.

"I'm okay," Coburn pulled himself into a sitting position, saw that Chuck Bartowski had subdued Martin Santirez.

The terrorist had been trussed like a Thanksgiving Turkey.

All of a sudden, Coburn was shivering, the trembling taking hold deep in his bones.

"Where is it?" Bartowski was shouting, and all Santirez did was smile; that smile sending more shivers down Coburn's spine.

"Alex?" Bennet sounded alarmed. "Bryan! Get over here."

"I'm here," Krause hobbled over to where Bennet and Coburn huddled. "What's happening Alex?"

"It's too late," Coburn's teeth were shattering. "He's already installed it…"

"He's going into shock," Krause stated. "Get an ambulance now!"

"Where did you put it?" Bartowski swung his gaze to Santirez.

Santirez shook his head.

"Think I'm going to talk now?" he laughed. "I've been working toward this for _years_, dreaming of this for _years_. You all can go stuff yourselves."

Coburn couldn't stop the shivering. He felt awash in Santirez's thoughts and emotions. The terrorist had gone beyond hate, beyond the concepts of Justice, Right, or Wrong. There was only the desire to kill, and kill again, to kill as many as he could before he was killed in turn.

But Alexander Coburn _saw…_

He _Knew_…

He felt Ty Bennet holding him tightly, heard the man's words as the coming darkness loomed, blotting out the light.

"Hang on Alex, the ambulance is coming…"

_American Idol…_

* * *

The ambulance was off, taking Alexander Coburn to the nearest hospital, Bryan Krause in attendance. Chuck saw Ty Bennet standing there, watching as the ambulance sped off, sirens wailing. The man's hands were clenched into fists, and a faraway look was in his eyes.

"Ty…" the man started at Chuck's voice.

"I'm all right," the older man said. "Just worried about him."

"I know," Chuck said. "But we've got a problem. Santirez won't talk, and it'll take hours to get it out of him. Time we do not have."

"Alex whispered something just before he fainted," Bennet told him. "It was _American Idol._"

"You think he might be right?" Stephen Bartowski asked.

"He's been right about everything else."

"He has," Chuck agreed.

So the group ran all the way to where the American Idol Episode was being aired; followed by a squad of Fox Building Security Guards.

The room where the episode was being aired should've had some people there; and they _were_. But not alive; each technician had had his, or her, throat neatly sliced across the jugular.

The episode of _American Idol_ was airing right now, but the techy in Chuck could see the additions to the machine running the episode; additions that would soon bypass the episode, and air an episode of…_something else._

_The Intersect Update_, Chuck realized. And the timer on the machine said they had less than a minute.

"Where's the over-ride?" he muttered.

"It's in Fox's Master List of Codes," the Chief of Security held up his IPhone. "You have to call the number to stop the machine."

"Gimme that," Chuck snatched the phone out of the guard's hands, Flashed on the right set of numbers, and input them into the phone.

Nothing happened…

"It's not stopping," Walker stated the obvious, sheer fright in her eyes as the episode continued on like an out-of-control train.

"Sometimes, the direct approach is best," Ty Bennet drew his gun, one of the more powerful ones.

"Please stand back," he advised everyone.

Then he proceeded to fill the machine with hot lead.

And Chuck had to admit that while he always very much preferred less violent options, _this_ time the direct approach _was_ the right approach…

Howls of anguish erupted across the USA as TV screens everywhere went blank, to be followed by the words, _please hold, we are experiencing technical difficulty…_

The NSA Cleaners sifted through the wreckage carefully. The taped episode of _American Idol_ had been completely destroyed-_No great loss there, _Chuck Bartowski had muttered-and the Intersect Program Santirez had managed to secrete into the episode had likewise been utterly destroyed.

Just to be sure, Chuck had ordered what remaining fragments of tape that were left to be incinerated immediately. In fact, he had seen to that himself.

Then, now that the world had been saved, he, and the rest of the gang went to the hospital to see Alex Coburn.

* * *

Alex was feeling better when his friends dropped by to see him. But the doctors had said he was going to spend the rest of the night there, hooked up to an IV Stand, and with oxygen cannulas stuck up his nose.

_We'll see how you are in the morning,_ they had said, and Coburn hoped he wouldn't have to spend more time in the hospital.

"It was just a fugue," he grumbled as Ty Bennet displayed a rather surprising Mother-Hennish tendency to fuss over him.

"It was you getting yourself in over your head," Bennet scolded him. "I thought it was agreed that Chuck, Sarah, and I would do the heavy lifting. What were you thinking of, trying to take Santirez on?"

"That wasn't what happened," Alex flared. "I wasn't trying to look for him. I went to the water fountain, and there he was, as simple as that."

"Why didn't you back off and call us on your cell?"

"Because I remembered something," Coburn looked off into the distance, remembering the night Colonel James Keller took everything away.

"Santirez was there when I got shot. He was with Colonel Keller. It was Keller who shot me."

"I know," Bennet stared back at him. "I've known that for years."

"But-"

"Alex, listen to me!" Bennet grabbed his hand. "I know you want to be the big strong guy you were when you joined the Marines. But _that…is…gone_. It is what it is, and you are what you are. Accept it and move on with your life. Or you'll get yourself killed. Or worse."

"But what do I do?"

"Like Chuck said, you see things that need to be dealt with. Use this gift of yours to keep America safe. You tell us what's wrong, and you stay back and let _us_ do the dangerous work. We're a team, and we all fulfill different functions. You'll never see Stephen Bartowski hold a gun, and if I have any say in the matter, you'll never see Morgan Grimes carry a gun either. But their jobs are no less important than mine or Chuck's. The same goes for you…"

"So my job is to be your Magic Eight Ball?" Coburn knew he was pouting, but couldn't help it…

"Your job is to _See_, _Know_, and _Tell_," Bennet smiled. "And, when you think of it, your job is truly the most important one. How could the rest of us do our jobs if we don't know what we need to do?"

Coburn nodded.

"All right," he spoke reluctantly. "I'll try to remember."

"Do that," Bennet said. "I'm dreading what I would have to say to Lexi if you ever got yourself hurt; like today for example."

"I'm fine," Coburn protested.

"You are now, Alex. But you weren't then. Please be careful, and let us do the dangerous things."

"All right! You've made your point!"

"All right. Get some rest Alex," Bennet stood. "If the doctors say you're okay, we'll leave for Burbank in the morning. See you then."

Alone, Coburn lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Part of him wanted to weep, for all he had lost.

_Bennet's right. I've been trying to be a hero. But I'm not the guy I was back then._

But, on the other hand, he could see the good he had done today, simply by telling Chuck and Bennet where they had to go, where the danger was.

His gift, his _Knowing_, had saved the world today.

* * *

_Burbank, CA_

It was late morning, just before the Lunch-time Crowd came in, and Lexi was enjoying a few minutes break before the _Lunchtime Insanity._ Ty Bennet had called a few minutes before to tell her he and her father would be flying in from NYC later in the evening, perhaps even in time for Dinner.

She had been so glad when it turned out that Ty Bennet had been an old friend of her father, and even more so when Bennet had offered to share his home with Alex.

Opportunities for joy in her father's life were rather thin, so the totally impromptu trip to NYC-completely on a whim of Bennet's-was a real gift. Nowadays she thanked the good Lord daily for Ty Bennet. He had put something back into her father's eyes, something that had been gone for a long time. Maybe it was a feeling or purpose, or a joy in life itself.

Whatever it was, Bennet had improved Alex's quality of life in ways that simply couldn't be qualitatively measured; and for that Bennet had her eternal gratitude.

She saw the customer enter, sitting at one of her tables. Time to get back to work…

"Good morning!" she spoke brightly, pen and order form in hand. "Our Special for today is a Crab Salad Wrap with Slaw on the side, and your choice of beverage."

The man looked up, blue eyes twinkling.

"Ya got anything for a red-meat lover in there?"

"There's our Western Super Deluxe Burger, cooked to order, on a sesame seed bun, topped with barbecue sauce, onions, and bacon."

_That_ one was one of her father's favorites…

The man seemed to think highly of this selection as well.

"I'll take that," he grinned. "Rare, with onion rings on the side if you've got them."

"We do," Lexi smiled too, this man was so infectiously charming.

"Great," the man nodded. "And if a coffee comes with that, why it could be love…"

"I'll get your order," Lexi laughed as she turned to take care of his order…

_And Colonel James Keller watched as she turned away to go back into the kitchen and deliver his order._

_It was good to know where she worked, just in case Alexander Coburn proved recalcitrant…_


End file.
